Their faces, once so defined, were now weathered and old
Wind smoothed stone showed a mere outline of what once was
As the face pulled back into the mountain,
Letting nature reclaim her own once more.
We walk the trail ahead,
But it too has been eroded
And as it crumbles away a gaping hole is left.
Five feet spans the gap - five feet across but five hundred in depth
The pull forward outweighs the risk and we know:
We must go on.
I cross the gap - my feet finding firm ground
My mind slipping away
And I find it again at the edge of a high mountain lake
Blue green water pools
Fallen logs on the edges
A ripple spreads across the glassy surface
The rise of a fish?
A seal breaks the surface
Lunging to the shore, where her young appears to greet her
Seals in a lake, yet I feel no surprise.
Curiosity pilots my body as I dive
into the mystical lake
It drives me to the very bottom
Where my lungs assure me they are really more capable than I think.
Propelled through the water by something surely outside of myself,
I find a creature playing in the darkness
He turns his head and the white fur covering him moves in waves
I feel no fear as the polar bear swims past me and instead shut my eyes
Surrendering my body to the waves.
********************************************
Another attempt at dream poetry. I try to just word-vomit it out and not edit so that it is expressed in the first words that came to mind. Not sure how valid that way of writing is, but I'm going for it! My dream last night was simply too interesting to me to not write about it in some way. The first part is talking about Mt. Rushmore; I was hiking past it and couldn't even tell that it was Rushmore because the faces had been so weathered. It was a really beautiful image - their faces receding into the mountain. I wish I could share that visual with the class. The rest of the dream was pretty weird too (seals and polar bears in a small mountain lake and me once again being able to stay under water for long amounts of time) but it was an enjoyable dream and I woke up happy. Dreams are sweet.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Thursday, November 21, 2013
Because I Love This Class
First of all, I would like to thank each and every one of you for being so open and passionate in your presentations. I was blown away by all of them and had a blast learning about not only the topics, but you as people through them. Our class is composed entirely of brilliant people, and I will never be able to accurately say how grateful I am to have been able to be a part of it. If anyone could start a revolution, it would be the people in that classroom. We could call ourselves "Sexson's Army."
Yasmin - the smile of freedom (I think I illustrate this smile everyday when I get out of my other classes) is such an interesting thing. Smiling in general is; we smile for nearly every emotion we express, even, as was mentioned in your presentation, when we are sad. I was moved by the Mandela clip you showed, baffled by the Mona Lisa, and thoroughly intrigued in your presentation as a whole. It's funny because the first thing I noticed about you was your smile (it is captivating by the way), so how fitting for you to present on them. Thank you.
Katie Chambers - you wrote a beautiful piece on dreaming. My attention was not only captured by your story, but by your presence as you told it. You discussed the violent, erotic, implausible and desiring nature of dreams and ended by saying we should not feel shameful when we wake from them; it is only natural. I'm glad someone said this. Dreams are so interesting and cool and the content of them should not be judged; we can't even control them. One of my favorite HP quotes goes something like "It is your choices more than your abilities that define you" and I think this applies directly to dreaming. We cannot control our dreams, so we should not be defined by them. Rather, we should just appreciate them for what they are: fucking awesome. You may be quiet, but you are a strong and passionate woman Katie. I quite saw that in your presentation. Thank you.
Jonah - in your presentation you said, "Freedom is the act of perception." I have long struggled with figuring out what exactly "freedom" is, but the second you said that everything fell into place. It is something no one can take away (or give) and something internal. It effects everything and also has no effect at all; it is the individual's whole world and nothing to anyone besides them. This falls perfectly in line with what Conchis said: "The better you understand freedom, the less you possess it." We do not own freedom, we simply navigate by it. You had an enthralling presentation filled with many deep points (as always) that allowed me to see just how thoughtful you are; the fact that you still think of the words a homeless man said to you as a child shows how well you think things over. You are so deep and caring Jonah, and this really came through in your presentation. Thank you.
Spencer - you related our mythology class to thermo dynamics while simultaneously involving the class by incorporating our dreams into it. You showed how our class can be used to tap into any subject, which is something that I hope to achieve in my future as a teacher so I found it not only interesting but extremely useful. The world could really benefit from more minds thinking like yours does, but even more so from more people caring enough to act on it. You said you don't want to be a sell-out or work for "the man," but I have no doubts that you won't. Even if you do work for some big oil corporation you will certainly not sell out, but rather change that corporation from the inside out with your ways of thinking. Your presentation showed me how witty and how strong of a leader you are. Thank you.
Alaine - I can't believe I missed the first few minutes of your poem! All I know is that I walked into a room of completely enraptured people and saw a woman speaking beautifully from her soul. I read your full poem on your blog. Many times. Not only is it inspiring in it's form and structure, but also in content. You may be quiet in class, but holy shit you have a lot of big, deep ideas to share with the world. I have no doubts that you will get exactly what you want out of your life. Today you got the sun tarot card, and I just thought it was perfect. You certainly are a beacon of light for all of those around you, and that certainly radiated through your presentation. Thank you.
Katie Neal - you did a great job of constructing the "god game." I was so sure someone would ask the right question and we would figure out who the killer was, and when you revealed that there was no killer I was shocked. But as Sexson would say, "Of course there was no killer." ;) In your presentation I learned that sometimes there is no right question. Sometimes, you do not get the answer you're looking for. This is something I certainly need to take to heart since my tendency is to tear things apart in search of answers, and it often is the case that there is no answer and then I'm just left with a mess. You are such a sharp and observant person, but it is your compassion that stands out the most to me; it is powerful and ever present in your words and I'm glad to have had the chance to witness and be inspired by it. Thank you.
Rose - your presentation was clearly from the heart. I know first hand how difficult it can be to experience depression and also how scary it is to talk about it with others. You did so magnificently though. I wrote down so many of the lines from your paper but your final point left me drop-jawed. "Emotions are the stories in my head," you said. And in that moment I felt something shift inside of me. I hope you realize how beautiful that sentence was Rose. Emotions are the stories in my head. I will never forget that line. I was having a rough day today actually and as my head started to reel I began to feel an anxiety attack coming on. But I told myself that sentence and thought, "These emotions will not kill me. Nor should I be ashamed of them. I should just look at them like a story." And I immediately felt myself calm. You don't give yourself enough credit Rose. You are intelligent and courageous and things may be rough right now, but you are going to be okay. You are too brilliant not to be. I hope you know how much I appreciated your presentation. Thank you.
Joe - well Joe, you may have made me stay late after class, but I wouldn't have chosen to spend that time any other way. You are a volcano of contemplation - exploding in thoughts and ideas - and I don't think I've ever met someone that commits as much energy as you do to exploring them. Your presentation showed how the cycle of reading is the cycle of water is the cycle of life is the cycle of everything. It's hard to write about your presentation since it covered pretty much the whole universe (ha it's funny because you literally did talk about the whole universe..) but it certainly opened my mind to the cycle we are all caught up in. I loved when you said, "Sex is just a really beautiful middle finger to chaos" and when you sang, "Holy water has got nothing on this mud." You are a brilliant ball of energy with a unique perspective and the ability to share it through a variety of mediums. You never cease to amaze me in your ability to get me to see things in a different light. Thank you.
Valerie - my goodness woman, you are an inspiration to all. Your presentation was extremely interesting and gave me my first look into tarot cards, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I had no idea of all the allusions to tarot in The Magus but once you pointed them out the book took on a whole new constantly having to rethink the things you say since they pack such a punch. Your authenticity as a person, strength in convictions, and love for life are unmatched. I hope to emulate each of those traits in my own life and hope you realize what an inspiration you truly are. Thank you.
Matt - your presentation was, of course, fantastic. It's funny because I've been listening to "Godspeed You! Black Emperor" the entire time I've been writing this blog. (I like them by the way, so thanks for introducing them to the class!) I really liked what you had to say about architecture telling our stories. It really does and I've never thought about it, but I've certainly felt it and it was exciting to hear you talk about it and understand what you were getting at. You are so insightful and multifaceted and I am consistently blown away by the things you say. I will never forget the day you talked about Lament of the Dead and said, "Keep telling the story." I've adopted that as a motto for my life. You have such skill as an observer, analyzer, and storyteller. I hope you tell stories your whole life long. You certainly need to get your brilliant thoughts out there somehow. They are too great to go unshared and I'm honored to have been able to be witness to them. Thank you.
Calder - you gave quite the history lesson in your presentation. You posed the question, "Who controls the past" and at that point I had to really stop and think. Who does control the past? What is written in our textbooks is what kids learn and is what they will act off of, thereby controlling the future. We cannot afford to have the control of the past in the wrong hands. You then said the Orwell quote, "Those who control the past control the future, and those who control the present control the past." I'm glad you are studying history Calder. Because if people like you write text books or teach history or write about it or whatever it is you end up doing, you will control the past. And if people like you control our future, then we will all be a-okay. You have a strong presence, a beautiful mind, and are a true craftsman of words and I have loved being able to witness that. Thank you.
Since I will not be here for the last day of presentations I would like to say a bit about the rest of our class as well.
Carol - you have an interesting perspective on things and I am sure your presentation is going to rock. A lot of times in class you say a little sentence that I find myself mulling over for great lengths of time; just when I think I understand something you bring up another aspect and I realize I was only seeing part of the picture. I will never forget the day you read your poem "Too Close" to the class. It was so beautiful and showed me how creative and passionate you are. I have really enjoyed hearing your thoughts and reading your blogs. Thank you.
Brady - I always love it when you speak up in class because I know it's either going to be a funny joke or a deeply insightful thought that you are about to share. I got my first real glimpse into your mind when you wrote your blog/paper on circles, and I've been grateful for that glimpse since. You are gifted in your ability to see more than just the words on the page - to see connections - and I hope to be able to emulate that in my own reading. I've loved getting to hear your insights and originality through both what you say in class and what you blog. You have a wonderful mind. Thank you.
Logan - first of all, you radiate such a positive energy. You also possess a brilliant mind that works in ways my mind can't even fathom, and every time you talk I find myself writing it down so that I can think about it more later. When you did that presentation on the whiteboard about mythology and AI, my mind about exploded - first from all the unfamiliar terms and then from how perfectly you made your point. You are a brilliant man with interests all across the board, which makes you captivating to listen to. Thank you.
Charlie - You are probably the one in the class I have talked the least with, but your presence is always noticed. You have such insight to share and whenever I've talked with you outside of class I instantly feel your compassion and wisdom. I am glad your crazy road trip ended up with you in Bozeman; this community is extremely lucky to have you. I have thoroughly enjoyed hearing your stories and thoughts throughout this semester. Thank you.
Conner - well you aren't really in this class so you don't get a post. Just kidding. The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes. You listen with rapt attention and I can almost see the gears spinning in your brain as you take the time to process each thing that is said. You don't speak up often, but when you do I am consistently jolted by what you have to say. You are passionately curious and gifted in your ability with words (I especially love your poetry) and I am glad that Joe invited you to our class. You truly dance for the sake of dancing Conner. You are genuine and thoughtful and brilliant and I'm so glad you joined our class. Thank you.
And of course.....
Dr. Sexson - you will get a detailed thank you from me later, but I want to congratulate you on creating the ultimate learning environment. I say on a regular basis how thankful I am for having had the opportunity to take this class. And when I think of my future as a teacher you are the role model I hope to imitate. Never before have I had an educational experience as I have had in your classroom. I've felt myself growing and thinking in ways I've never thought to think before and I cannot thank you enough for this. This class has changed my life. It has been a huge part of my apocalypse. And it is all because one man with a twinkle in his eye decided to invest in a group of random college kids. Thank you so much for sharing your mind with us Dr. Sexson. It has been exciting and wonderful and beautiful every step of the way. If you ever want to adopt a grand daughter just let me know;)
Yasmin - the smile of freedom (I think I illustrate this smile everyday when I get out of my other classes) is such an interesting thing. Smiling in general is; we smile for nearly every emotion we express, even, as was mentioned in your presentation, when we are sad. I was moved by the Mandela clip you showed, baffled by the Mona Lisa, and thoroughly intrigued in your presentation as a whole. It's funny because the first thing I noticed about you was your smile (it is captivating by the way), so how fitting for you to present on them. Thank you.
Katie Chambers - you wrote a beautiful piece on dreaming. My attention was not only captured by your story, but by your presence as you told it. You discussed the violent, erotic, implausible and desiring nature of dreams and ended by saying we should not feel shameful when we wake from them; it is only natural. I'm glad someone said this. Dreams are so interesting and cool and the content of them should not be judged; we can't even control them. One of my favorite HP quotes goes something like "It is your choices more than your abilities that define you" and I think this applies directly to dreaming. We cannot control our dreams, so we should not be defined by them. Rather, we should just appreciate them for what they are: fucking awesome. You may be quiet, but you are a strong and passionate woman Katie. I quite saw that in your presentation. Thank you.
Jonah - in your presentation you said, "Freedom is the act of perception." I have long struggled with figuring out what exactly "freedom" is, but the second you said that everything fell into place. It is something no one can take away (or give) and something internal. It effects everything and also has no effect at all; it is the individual's whole world and nothing to anyone besides them. This falls perfectly in line with what Conchis said: "The better you understand freedom, the less you possess it." We do not own freedom, we simply navigate by it. You had an enthralling presentation filled with many deep points (as always) that allowed me to see just how thoughtful you are; the fact that you still think of the words a homeless man said to you as a child shows how well you think things over. You are so deep and caring Jonah, and this really came through in your presentation. Thank you.
Spencer - you related our mythology class to thermo dynamics while simultaneously involving the class by incorporating our dreams into it. You showed how our class can be used to tap into any subject, which is something that I hope to achieve in my future as a teacher so I found it not only interesting but extremely useful. The world could really benefit from more minds thinking like yours does, but even more so from more people caring enough to act on it. You said you don't want to be a sell-out or work for "the man," but I have no doubts that you won't. Even if you do work for some big oil corporation you will certainly not sell out, but rather change that corporation from the inside out with your ways of thinking. Your presentation showed me how witty and how strong of a leader you are. Thank you.
Alaine - I can't believe I missed the first few minutes of your poem! All I know is that I walked into a room of completely enraptured people and saw a woman speaking beautifully from her soul. I read your full poem on your blog. Many times. Not only is it inspiring in it's form and structure, but also in content. You may be quiet in class, but holy shit you have a lot of big, deep ideas to share with the world. I have no doubts that you will get exactly what you want out of your life. Today you got the sun tarot card, and I just thought it was perfect. You certainly are a beacon of light for all of those around you, and that certainly radiated through your presentation. Thank you.
Katie Neal - you did a great job of constructing the "god game." I was so sure someone would ask the right question and we would figure out who the killer was, and when you revealed that there was no killer I was shocked. But as Sexson would say, "Of course there was no killer." ;) In your presentation I learned that sometimes there is no right question. Sometimes, you do not get the answer you're looking for. This is something I certainly need to take to heart since my tendency is to tear things apart in search of answers, and it often is the case that there is no answer and then I'm just left with a mess. You are such a sharp and observant person, but it is your compassion that stands out the most to me; it is powerful and ever present in your words and I'm glad to have had the chance to witness and be inspired by it. Thank you.
Rose - your presentation was clearly from the heart. I know first hand how difficult it can be to experience depression and also how scary it is to talk about it with others. You did so magnificently though. I wrote down so many of the lines from your paper but your final point left me drop-jawed. "Emotions are the stories in my head," you said. And in that moment I felt something shift inside of me. I hope you realize how beautiful that sentence was Rose. Emotions are the stories in my head. I will never forget that line. I was having a rough day today actually and as my head started to reel I began to feel an anxiety attack coming on. But I told myself that sentence and thought, "These emotions will not kill me. Nor should I be ashamed of them. I should just look at them like a story." And I immediately felt myself calm. You don't give yourself enough credit Rose. You are intelligent and courageous and things may be rough right now, but you are going to be okay. You are too brilliant not to be. I hope you know how much I appreciated your presentation. Thank you.
Joe - well Joe, you may have made me stay late after class, but I wouldn't have chosen to spend that time any other way. You are a volcano of contemplation - exploding in thoughts and ideas - and I don't think I've ever met someone that commits as much energy as you do to exploring them. Your presentation showed how the cycle of reading is the cycle of water is the cycle of life is the cycle of everything. It's hard to write about your presentation since it covered pretty much the whole universe (ha it's funny because you literally did talk about the whole universe..) but it certainly opened my mind to the cycle we are all caught up in. I loved when you said, "Sex is just a really beautiful middle finger to chaos" and when you sang, "Holy water has got nothing on this mud." You are a brilliant ball of energy with a unique perspective and the ability to share it through a variety of mediums. You never cease to amaze me in your ability to get me to see things in a different light. Thank you.
Valerie - my goodness woman, you are an inspiration to all. Your presentation was extremely interesting and gave me my first look into tarot cards, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I had no idea of all the allusions to tarot in The Magus but once you pointed them out the book took on a whole new constantly having to rethink the things you say since they pack such a punch. Your authenticity as a person, strength in convictions, and love for life are unmatched. I hope to emulate each of those traits in my own life and hope you realize what an inspiration you truly are. Thank you.
Matt - your presentation was, of course, fantastic. It's funny because I've been listening to "Godspeed You! Black Emperor" the entire time I've been writing this blog. (I like them by the way, so thanks for introducing them to the class!) I really liked what you had to say about architecture telling our stories. It really does and I've never thought about it, but I've certainly felt it and it was exciting to hear you talk about it and understand what you were getting at. You are so insightful and multifaceted and I am consistently blown away by the things you say. I will never forget the day you talked about Lament of the Dead and said, "Keep telling the story." I've adopted that as a motto for my life. You have such skill as an observer, analyzer, and storyteller. I hope you tell stories your whole life long. You certainly need to get your brilliant thoughts out there somehow. They are too great to go unshared and I'm honored to have been able to be witness to them. Thank you.
Calder - you gave quite the history lesson in your presentation. You posed the question, "Who controls the past" and at that point I had to really stop and think. Who does control the past? What is written in our textbooks is what kids learn and is what they will act off of, thereby controlling the future. We cannot afford to have the control of the past in the wrong hands. You then said the Orwell quote, "Those who control the past control the future, and those who control the present control the past." I'm glad you are studying history Calder. Because if people like you write text books or teach history or write about it or whatever it is you end up doing, you will control the past. And if people like you control our future, then we will all be a-okay. You have a strong presence, a beautiful mind, and are a true craftsman of words and I have loved being able to witness that. Thank you.
Since I will not be here for the last day of presentations I would like to say a bit about the rest of our class as well.
Carol - you have an interesting perspective on things and I am sure your presentation is going to rock. A lot of times in class you say a little sentence that I find myself mulling over for great lengths of time; just when I think I understand something you bring up another aspect and I realize I was only seeing part of the picture. I will never forget the day you read your poem "Too Close" to the class. It was so beautiful and showed me how creative and passionate you are. I have really enjoyed hearing your thoughts and reading your blogs. Thank you.
Brady - I always love it when you speak up in class because I know it's either going to be a funny joke or a deeply insightful thought that you are about to share. I got my first real glimpse into your mind when you wrote your blog/paper on circles, and I've been grateful for that glimpse since. You are gifted in your ability to see more than just the words on the page - to see connections - and I hope to be able to emulate that in my own reading. I've loved getting to hear your insights and originality through both what you say in class and what you blog. You have a wonderful mind. Thank you.
Logan - first of all, you radiate such a positive energy. You also possess a brilliant mind that works in ways my mind can't even fathom, and every time you talk I find myself writing it down so that I can think about it more later. When you did that presentation on the whiteboard about mythology and AI, my mind about exploded - first from all the unfamiliar terms and then from how perfectly you made your point. You are a brilliant man with interests all across the board, which makes you captivating to listen to. Thank you.
Charlie - You are probably the one in the class I have talked the least with, but your presence is always noticed. You have such insight to share and whenever I've talked with you outside of class I instantly feel your compassion and wisdom. I am glad your crazy road trip ended up with you in Bozeman; this community is extremely lucky to have you. I have thoroughly enjoyed hearing your stories and thoughts throughout this semester. Thank you.
Conner - well you aren't really in this class so you don't get a post. Just kidding. The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes. You listen with rapt attention and I can almost see the gears spinning in your brain as you take the time to process each thing that is said. You don't speak up often, but when you do I am consistently jolted by what you have to say. You are passionately curious and gifted in your ability with words (I especially love your poetry) and I am glad that Joe invited you to our class. You truly dance for the sake of dancing Conner. You are genuine and thoughtful and brilliant and I'm so glad you joined our class. Thank you.
And of course.....
Dr. Sexson - you will get a detailed thank you from me later, but I want to congratulate you on creating the ultimate learning environment. I say on a regular basis how thankful I am for having had the opportunity to take this class. And when I think of my future as a teacher you are the role model I hope to imitate. Never before have I had an educational experience as I have had in your classroom. I've felt myself growing and thinking in ways I've never thought to think before and I cannot thank you enough for this. This class has changed my life. It has been a huge part of my apocalypse. And it is all because one man with a twinkle in his eye decided to invest in a group of random college kids. Thank you so much for sharing your mind with us Dr. Sexson. It has been exciting and wonderful and beautiful every step of the way. If you ever want to adopt a grand daughter just let me know;)
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Talk Dreamy to Me.
Children speak in the language of dreams.
Let me illustrate this with an example:
I help with the youth program at the rock climbing gym in town occasionally, and the other day I was helping a 5 year old boy harness up and prepare to climb. I was wearing my favorite winter hat - a thick knit hat I got when in NYC last winter - to which he pointed and said, "It looks like shrimp."
I took my hat off and held it in my hand as I inspected it: cream, tan, and salmon pink. Shrimp? Well, yes. It did quite resemble the coloring of a shrimp. "You know, it does kinda look like a shrimp doesn't it?" I replied.
As I have said before, I grew up in a rigidly Catholic house. Because of this, I am quite familiar with stories from the bible. I remember being a child and hearing the stories in which Jesus praises children - saying how everyone should view the world as children do and that whoever is like a child will have a place in his kingdom. Hearing those as a child I would think it meant that we were younger and therefore more innocent and that was why we got priority. As I grew older I stopped thinking about those parables as much; I was older and tainted and no longer had whatever childish qualities would get me through the pearly gates. However, I think I'm starting to understand them. I won't pretend to know what Jesus meant, but I know what it means to me to think like a child; it means to dream. Always.
We are told that as we age we become less imaginative due to the acceptance of certain social mythologies and the more restricted use of our minds. I'm proposing something else though. I think we are simply taught to repress it; we don't lose any of our imaginative capacity, it just manifests itself in our dreams and creative outlets rather than being present across every aspect of our lives. Give a child some free time and she will gather all her dolls and stuffed animals for a make-believe tea party complete with wizards and mermaids, but give an adult some free time and she will find a less-imaginative task to occupy it. Maybe she will cook or watch tv or read or clean or do homework. The difference is that as we get older we have a large number of tasks added to our "to-do list" and we use our time to do them rather than to completely invent a task. This isn't bad nor am I trying to say that all adults completely restrict their imagination (if we did we wouldn't have books or art or science or anything really), it's just saying that in many moments we keep our lives strictly about the task at hand.
Children, on the other hand, let their imagination bleed into everything; they have no separate forms of thinking so it all mashes together. I worked at a learning center this last summer where I had my own class of 24 3rd graders. When I think back to myself at 3rd grade I remember a silly looking ginger who sang with all her might. That's all. But being around these kids made me remember something else about my past self - my perception. I can't channel the lens through which I then viewed the world and remember it in entirety, but I do remember thinking in different patterns. Everyone knows that "kids say the darndest things," but I think it can be attributed to them experiencing everything with a raw mind. As adults we often perceive things with our emotions first or only pay attention to what directly pertains to ourselves, but in dreams we are whisked away into a world where we notice all sorts of details and encounter implausible (and erotic, desiring, and violent) scenarios. And we experience it all with our mind fully open.
Kids do this all the time.
It's funny, because we have a lot to learn from kids, but what we have to learn from them is not something they are even aware of, and for them to become aware of it would be for them to cease in doing it. We can only teach ourselves. I do think it is a lesson worth learning though. For the language of dreams is most beautiful indeed.
Let me illustrate this with an example:
I help with the youth program at the rock climbing gym in town occasionally, and the other day I was helping a 5 year old boy harness up and prepare to climb. I was wearing my favorite winter hat - a thick knit hat I got when in NYC last winter - to which he pointed and said, "It looks like shrimp."
I took my hat off and held it in my hand as I inspected it: cream, tan, and salmon pink. Shrimp? Well, yes. It did quite resemble the coloring of a shrimp. "You know, it does kinda look like a shrimp doesn't it?" I replied.
As I have said before, I grew up in a rigidly Catholic house. Because of this, I am quite familiar with stories from the bible. I remember being a child and hearing the stories in which Jesus praises children - saying how everyone should view the world as children do and that whoever is like a child will have a place in his kingdom. Hearing those as a child I would think it meant that we were younger and therefore more innocent and that was why we got priority. As I grew older I stopped thinking about those parables as much; I was older and tainted and no longer had whatever childish qualities would get me through the pearly gates. However, I think I'm starting to understand them. I won't pretend to know what Jesus meant, but I know what it means to me to think like a child; it means to dream. Always.
We are told that as we age we become less imaginative due to the acceptance of certain social mythologies and the more restricted use of our minds. I'm proposing something else though. I think we are simply taught to repress it; we don't lose any of our imaginative capacity, it just manifests itself in our dreams and creative outlets rather than being present across every aspect of our lives. Give a child some free time and she will gather all her dolls and stuffed animals for a make-believe tea party complete with wizards and mermaids, but give an adult some free time and she will find a less-imaginative task to occupy it. Maybe she will cook or watch tv or read or clean or do homework. The difference is that as we get older we have a large number of tasks added to our "to-do list" and we use our time to do them rather than to completely invent a task. This isn't bad nor am I trying to say that all adults completely restrict their imagination (if we did we wouldn't have books or art or science or anything really), it's just saying that in many moments we keep our lives strictly about the task at hand.
Children, on the other hand, let their imagination bleed into everything; they have no separate forms of thinking so it all mashes together. I worked at a learning center this last summer where I had my own class of 24 3rd graders. When I think back to myself at 3rd grade I remember a silly looking ginger who sang with all her might. That's all. But being around these kids made me remember something else about my past self - my perception. I can't channel the lens through which I then viewed the world and remember it in entirety, but I do remember thinking in different patterns. Everyone knows that "kids say the darndest things," but I think it can be attributed to them experiencing everything with a raw mind. As adults we often perceive things with our emotions first or only pay attention to what directly pertains to ourselves, but in dreams we are whisked away into a world where we notice all sorts of details and encounter implausible (and erotic, desiring, and violent) scenarios. And we experience it all with our mind fully open.
Kids do this all the time.
It's funny, because we have a lot to learn from kids, but what we have to learn from them is not something they are even aware of, and for them to become aware of it would be for them to cease in doing it. We can only teach ourselves. I do think it is a lesson worth learning though. For the language of dreams is most beautiful indeed.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
Time
Time is a peculiar little thing. It is something we use to construct our daily routines and our long term goals. It is the common ground on which we operate and dictates in what order and with what frequency we do tasks. But why does it seem so distant at times? Why does it sometimes seem to rush by and other times seem to drag on? Why does it sometimes disappear from our minds altogether?
Time is a physical thing. The only reason "time" and "timing" and "scheduling" and the like matter is because our bodies function according to it; every so often we must eat, sleep, breathe, blink, etc. Our bodies need this regular scheduling of things to survive. Our minds, however, function quite differently.
Our minds don't need to eat or drink or sleep (seriously - we dream) or any of that; they work entirely separately from this entity of "time" that we've created. And because of this, because our deepest core of self - the mechanism by which we view and process the world - does not function according to any clock, we experience these expansions and contractions of "time." Things last longer or shorter based on how our mind is functioning at the moment. If our mind is engaged and rapidly working or running smoothly - that is either working excitedly or fluidly - we don't have gaps or jolts in our thinking that disrupt our thoughts and make it seem like whatever is happening is happening slowly. Compare this to when we aren't consumed with what we are doing and therefore notice the factor of "time."
I'm not sure if this is making sense. It's something Joe and I discussed briefly and I am entertained by it. It's a parallel to what Rose said her therapist said about her feelings, "Will these feelings kill you?" - "Will time kill you?" No; going through actions slowly or quickly doesn't matter. We cannot think of our time on earth as the type of time that is kept on a clock, because that is only how our bodies function, not the rest of our beings.
Joe said, "Sometimes I am just so happy doing something and just having a great time and then am taken from it by an obligation to do something else. And sometimes I just wanna forget that something else and just stay doing what I am doing until I'm ready to not do it anymore." What an interesting world this would be. Where we would do things as we felt we wanted to. Where you would miss class to sit on the steps of Montana Hall and soak in the sun if it felt good to. Where you would show up late to a meeting because it felt good to enjoy your morning coffee in the silence of your apartment and you weren't ready to leave that moment yet. Where your fingertips could forever rest in the palm of his hand.
Joe said, "Sometimes I am just so happy doing something and just having a great time and then am taken from it by an obligation to do something else. And sometimes I just wanna forget that something else and just stay doing what I am doing until I'm ready to not do it anymore." What an interesting world this would be. Where we would do things as we felt we wanted to. Where you would miss class to sit on the steps of Montana Hall and soak in the sun if it felt good to. Where you would show up late to a meeting because it felt good to enjoy your morning coffee in the silence of your apartment and you weren't ready to leave that moment yet. Where your fingertips could forever rest in the palm of his hand.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Naked
The other day I was talking with a long time friend. I was stressed and joked about quitting school to which he replied, "Then what would you do?" And, in a more serious answer than you would think, I said, "Probably run around naked in the woods." We laughed about this and the conversation moved on. However, it doesn't sound half bad to me - living naked in the woods. I spend every spare second I have putting as much distance between me and, well, everything else.
It all started with an apple. Eve just had to eat it and screw us all over, right? It wasn't until this year that I began to actually understand the forbidden fruit story, but it makes sense now. What was the first thing they noticed after eating of the fruit? Their nakedness. And I think this is both a literal and metaphorical thing. Because honestly- why do we need clothes? Of course in the winter it makes sense, but most of the time it just seems like a silly social construction. As for the metaphor - they noticed their ignorance and were plagued with the desire to know rather than just participate. I spend so much of my time actively working to participate rather than know because it feels right. And it makes sense - because Eve had to eat that damn apple, it is now against instinct to not question everything.
What a lot of our presentations/class talks have addressed is the idea of finding one's true self by stripping away all the other "stuff" that is in the way. Is it not ironic that, while Adam and Eve's first action was to cover themselves, we are forever destined to, in this metaphorical sense, try and get naked?
Conner's blog talks about love and complete surrender. Which reminds me of the Louise Erdich quote I used in my presentation that contained the line, "You are here to be swallowed up." It makes sense. We are here to be completely used and then we die. By the end of life, you should be able to look back and think "I used everything I had. And the universe therefore used every part of me." This is similar to when I'm coaching rock climbing; when one of my kids is hesitant to make a move on a route I always encourage them to just go for it - worst case scenario is that they miss the move and end up hanging there by the rope. And being as it is totally safe, there is no risk. Life requires that we give our all. We don't need any extra "self" after we die, so why not just leave it all on the court? And to circle back to Conner's blog; this is true of love as well. You may be the "safe" one if you are loving the lesser amount, but are you actually participating in the love at all? Are your actions based off of feelings? Or are they based off of what you know?
A combination of events has led me to be simultaneously terrified, skeptical, and yet very desiring of love. I love love. I love loving and feeling the high that comes from a complete surrender; from being completely swallowed up. But the fall is real. There is no rope. So is it worth it?
My answer: yes. Always. Because even if you are rejected, you are at least naked. You may have your heart broken, but you can handle it. Everyone can and most have to at at least one point in their life. And when you are sitting there, distraught and feeling really really shitty (because let's face it - it's no fun), you will look into the mirror and see only yourself. Naked. And what a great place to start from. The homeless man Jonah met talked of rebuilding his shelter every night. Every night. If he can start from scratch each morning, I'm sure each and every one of you can do it a few times throughout your lives.
It all started with an apple. Eve just had to eat it and screw us all over, right? It wasn't until this year that I began to actually understand the forbidden fruit story, but it makes sense now. What was the first thing they noticed after eating of the fruit? Their nakedness. And I think this is both a literal and metaphorical thing. Because honestly- why do we need clothes? Of course in the winter it makes sense, but most of the time it just seems like a silly social construction. As for the metaphor - they noticed their ignorance and were plagued with the desire to know rather than just participate. I spend so much of my time actively working to participate rather than know because it feels right. And it makes sense - because Eve had to eat that damn apple, it is now against instinct to not question everything.
What a lot of our presentations/class talks have addressed is the idea of finding one's true self by stripping away all the other "stuff" that is in the way. Is it not ironic that, while Adam and Eve's first action was to cover themselves, we are forever destined to, in this metaphorical sense, try and get naked?
Conner's blog talks about love and complete surrender. Which reminds me of the Louise Erdich quote I used in my presentation that contained the line, "You are here to be swallowed up." It makes sense. We are here to be completely used and then we die. By the end of life, you should be able to look back and think "I used everything I had. And the universe therefore used every part of me." This is similar to when I'm coaching rock climbing; when one of my kids is hesitant to make a move on a route I always encourage them to just go for it - worst case scenario is that they miss the move and end up hanging there by the rope. And being as it is totally safe, there is no risk. Life requires that we give our all. We don't need any extra "self" after we die, so why not just leave it all on the court? And to circle back to Conner's blog; this is true of love as well. You may be the "safe" one if you are loving the lesser amount, but are you actually participating in the love at all? Are your actions based off of feelings? Or are they based off of what you know?
A combination of events has led me to be simultaneously terrified, skeptical, and yet very desiring of love. I love love. I love loving and feeling the high that comes from a complete surrender; from being completely swallowed up. But the fall is real. There is no rope. So is it worth it?
My answer: yes. Always. Because even if you are rejected, you are at least naked. You may have your heart broken, but you can handle it. Everyone can and most have to at at least one point in their life. And when you are sitting there, distraught and feeling really really shitty (because let's face it - it's no fun), you will look into the mirror and see only yourself. Naked. And what a great place to start from. The homeless man Jonah met talked of rebuilding his shelter every night. Every night. If he can start from scratch each morning, I'm sure each and every one of you can do it a few times throughout your lives.
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Arcadia + Today's Presentations
I would like to start by looking at a couple quotes from Arcadia that caught my ear as they were said:
The second quote I quite liked. There may never be an answer, but wanting to know about things makes us who we are. I am curious as to the limits of my physical and mental strength and therefore engage in activities like backpacking and climbing; my sister is curious about how things work and devotes her life to her job as an electrical engineer. Wanting to know makes us us.
Today's presentations also brought some thoughts to my mind. Jonah spoke on freedom, basing his presentation on the The Magus quote "The better you understand freedom the less you possess it." I think it is a great quote; as Jonah said, "Freedom is the act of perception." As soon as you realize this, you realize that freedom is not something that can be possessed; it is something that exists separately from ourselves yet very much within. We all have access to it, but no one is capable of owning it. It is how we look at the "Mona Lisa" and are able to say such contrasting things as, "She looks like she is smiling" as opposed to "She looks sad." It is what enables us to make judgments or decisions, and it is not reserved for Americans or the wealthy or any of that; it is that thing in each of our minds that is with us everywhere we go allowing us to decide what to think and how to react. No government could give us freedom. Nor could any government take it away. What a thought.
I also liked the Conchis quote brought up in class today, "You wish to be liked. I wish simply to be." I think the goal in life (or at least at the stage I am at) is to wish simply to be. Independent of what anyone else thinks or says or does, we need to find out how to be happy just being.
At one point in Katie's presentation, Dr. Sexson brought up the distinction between waking up from a dream versus waking up with a dream. I think this is an important distinction to make being as we spend a large amount of our time in the dream state, and dreams are crazy and absurd and intense. And when things make you feel like that, it's typically a pretty big deal. I have vivid, intense, detailed, action-packed dreams every night. And 95% of the time I remember them. Often I feel the urge to call a person who was in my dream to tell them about it, but when I talk about my dreams to most people I am told, "Oh it was just a dream" and the conversation switches topics. Yes, I know dreams are in our minds and all that, but does that really make them negligible? Dreams are freakin awesome! Most of the time I would much rather hear about someone's absurd dream than about what they actually did in their day. And if our dreams include eroticism or desire of violence or the improbable? Who cares - those are the things that make life interesting; they add a contrast to what we consider appropriate lifestyles. It's like watching a scary movie; the odds are you will never be chased down by a serial killer, but you might as well enjoy the excitement and dread that you get second-hand from the movie. It seems like dreams are where we are most consistently creative and interesting. It seems like they should be given more credit than they are. In honor of Sexson informing the class that Yates said he writes his poetry by simply rearranging dreams, I am going to try writing a poem of a dream I recently had that keeps bouncing around in my mind. Here goes:
In the field behind the farm house,
They made a line of painted glass
Hundreds of hands hurried to grasp
their own; a new addition to each front door.
But one stood back, watching the crowd from a distance
how they scrambled amid the madness
clawing at their neighbors, friends, loved ones
All for a piece of glass.
The feeding frenzy ended,
each clutching their own
and suddenly - stillness.
What were they to do now
that all the glass was gone?
"Bury it!" one yelled, his piece thrust high above his head
And cheers roared all around
As they fought for soil to make a bed
Their precious glass,
swaddled up and buried deep
Finally they could rest.
"Oh no" one girl mumbled
dirt and sadness streaked across her face
"I buried mine without wrapping it first"
her words met with looks of disdain.
They all knew that the spade
would sink through the dirt with ease
and slice straight through her painted glass
she sunk down to her knees
Murmurs all around her confirmed what she knew to be true
The glass was gone forever.
There was nothing she could do.
The one that stood at a distance
came to offer a comforting hand
But was turned away in disgust
for he "didn't understand"
Well. That was interesting. I think I like writing like that... Poetry allows for "holes" or disconnects, which dreams have an abundance of, so it kind of works to transcribe a dream into poem form. Obviously not the greatest poem ever, but I think I will try this again. I quite enjoyed it.
"It can't prove to be true; it can only prove to be not false yet"
"It's wanting to know that makes us matter"The first quote struck me in its accuracy. I like stable and secure things and am slowly starting to realize that nothing of our world is stable or secure; we have only ourselves. And this quote is saying exactly that.
The second quote I quite liked. There may never be an answer, but wanting to know about things makes us who we are. I am curious as to the limits of my physical and mental strength and therefore engage in activities like backpacking and climbing; my sister is curious about how things work and devotes her life to her job as an electrical engineer. Wanting to know makes us us.
Today's presentations also brought some thoughts to my mind. Jonah spoke on freedom, basing his presentation on the The Magus quote "The better you understand freedom the less you possess it." I think it is a great quote; as Jonah said, "Freedom is the act of perception." As soon as you realize this, you realize that freedom is not something that can be possessed; it is something that exists separately from ourselves yet very much within. We all have access to it, but no one is capable of owning it. It is how we look at the "Mona Lisa" and are able to say such contrasting things as, "She looks like she is smiling" as opposed to "She looks sad." It is what enables us to make judgments or decisions, and it is not reserved for Americans or the wealthy or any of that; it is that thing in each of our minds that is with us everywhere we go allowing us to decide what to think and how to react. No government could give us freedom. Nor could any government take it away. What a thought.
I also liked the Conchis quote brought up in class today, "You wish to be liked. I wish simply to be." I think the goal in life (or at least at the stage I am at) is to wish simply to be. Independent of what anyone else thinks or says or does, we need to find out how to be happy just being.
At one point in Katie's presentation, Dr. Sexson brought up the distinction between waking up from a dream versus waking up with a dream. I think this is an important distinction to make being as we spend a large amount of our time in the dream state, and dreams are crazy and absurd and intense. And when things make you feel like that, it's typically a pretty big deal. I have vivid, intense, detailed, action-packed dreams every night. And 95% of the time I remember them. Often I feel the urge to call a person who was in my dream to tell them about it, but when I talk about my dreams to most people I am told, "Oh it was just a dream" and the conversation switches topics. Yes, I know dreams are in our minds and all that, but does that really make them negligible? Dreams are freakin awesome! Most of the time I would much rather hear about someone's absurd dream than about what they actually did in their day. And if our dreams include eroticism or desire of violence or the improbable? Who cares - those are the things that make life interesting; they add a contrast to what we consider appropriate lifestyles. It's like watching a scary movie; the odds are you will never be chased down by a serial killer, but you might as well enjoy the excitement and dread that you get second-hand from the movie. It seems like dreams are where we are most consistently creative and interesting. It seems like they should be given more credit than they are. In honor of Sexson informing the class that Yates said he writes his poetry by simply rearranging dreams, I am going to try writing a poem of a dream I recently had that keeps bouncing around in my mind. Here goes:
In the field behind the farm house,
They made a line of painted glass
Hundreds of hands hurried to grasp
their own; a new addition to each front door.
But one stood back, watching the crowd from a distance
how they scrambled amid the madness
clawing at their neighbors, friends, loved ones
All for a piece of glass.
The feeding frenzy ended,
each clutching their own
and suddenly - stillness.
What were they to do now
that all the glass was gone?
"Bury it!" one yelled, his piece thrust high above his head
And cheers roared all around
As they fought for soil to make a bed
Their precious glass,
swaddled up and buried deep
Finally they could rest.
"Oh no" one girl mumbled
dirt and sadness streaked across her face
"I buried mine without wrapping it first"
her words met with looks of disdain.
They all knew that the spade
would sink through the dirt with ease
and slice straight through her painted glass
she sunk down to her knees
Murmurs all around her confirmed what she knew to be true
The glass was gone forever.
There was nothing she could do.
The one that stood at a distance
came to offer a comforting hand
But was turned away in disgust
for he "didn't understand"
Well. That was interesting. I think I like writing like that... Poetry allows for "holes" or disconnects, which dreams have an abundance of, so it kind of works to transcribe a dream into poem form. Obviously not the greatest poem ever, but I think I will try this again. I quite enjoyed it.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
Dance for the Sake of Dancing
I'm working on a story right now. It isn't anything big and it isn't a piece I will try to have published, but I'm very motivated by it because it is a story of a difficult time in my life and it is the first I have written about it. For the period if its duration I hardly wrote at all, which is quite odd being as I have written (as in creative writing done for pleasure not school) daily since the second grade. Being as I think it pertains, I am going to insert an excerpt from that story here:
I bring this up because over the last year or so I have realized my main problem stems from me being a perfectionist and always having certain marks to measure up to; rather than working for the sake of doing the work, I was working to achieve some new level of "success." And as soon as I reached it I would set my sites on the next level, perpetuating the cycle of dissatisfaction.
But I have recently learned to, as I initially referred to it, "be selfish." I have learned that happiness occurs when you are doing what you enjoy simply because you enjoy it. This means when I am out climbing I don't look at the grade of the climb, I just give it my best and have fun exploring the route. This means if I am writing, I do so because it just feels good to - not to try and get published. And this means I dance - white girl moves and all - purely for the sake of dancing.
I know I am young. I know I am still fighting this battle. But I also know that we are capable of rewiring our brains. It seems scary and time-consuming and like it may not even work. I know this. But I also know it is worth it to invest in yourself by doing what it takes to make the most out of your life. If there is anything I could possibly share with anyone, it is this idea - that we must do what we do for the sake of doing it.
"The trail is the thing. Not the end of the trail. Travel too fast and you will miss all that you are travelling for."
"There was a time, quite a long time, when sleep was the best part of my life. I was incurably unhappy and it offered an escape; a few hours each day when I could just let go of everything and be free. I could melt away into the darkness and just be. And in those hours- it didn't hurt.
For a long time, I struggled with anxiety and depression. Sometimes I am still hit by a random panic attack and thrown straight back into that place of helplessness and doubt. That is the worst part of it - the doubt. When I am in the middle of a panic attack my mind works at about a million miles an hour to explore the worst possible scenarios. And being as I have zero confidence in those moments, I start to believe it. But the most bizarre part of it all is that there seems to be a part of my mind that is completely separate and unaffected, and it just sits there watching me freak out saying, "Brooke. This is silly. You have no reason to think that. Just calm down."That was before I got bad.When I got bad, I lost the ability to sleep. I would have moments of darkness midst a night spent wrestling with my problems in bed. I’d watch the clock flicker to 7:00 am and then sit up in bed, feeling the immense weight on my shoulders, as I tried carrying on as though nothing was out of the norm. Whatever that meant.The combination of sleep deprivation and my already unstable mental health lead me to take up a permanent residence on “the edge.”I lived my life with a lump in my throat. I knew how fragile I was – how thin the strings were that held me together – and constantly feared something deviating from the plan. Because any time it did, my throat would swell up just a millimeter further and the tears would begin.Then my breathing would get ragged. And as I struggled to get air, I would feel my face go numb.And at that point there was no recovering.I would end up curled up, my hands hugging my knees to my chest, on the floor as I felt my body shake violently. I sobbed uncontrollably during these moments. Even when my mind said, “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s okay” my body continued to be broken down.Sometime between 30 minutes and an hour later I would be done. Still on the floor, I would lay prostrate- my breathing shallow and quiet, my eyes swollen and glazed over, all of me thoroughly exhausted. And I would think of nothing except what was in my immediate line of sight, “That door must have 10 layers of paint on it... look at how the paint has pooled around the edges...”
I bring this up because over the last year or so I have realized my main problem stems from me being a perfectionist and always having certain marks to measure up to; rather than working for the sake of doing the work, I was working to achieve some new level of "success." And as soon as I reached it I would set my sites on the next level, perpetuating the cycle of dissatisfaction.
But I have recently learned to, as I initially referred to it, "be selfish." I have learned that happiness occurs when you are doing what you enjoy simply because you enjoy it. This means when I am out climbing I don't look at the grade of the climb, I just give it my best and have fun exploring the route. This means if I am writing, I do so because it just feels good to - not to try and get published. And this means I dance - white girl moves and all - purely for the sake of dancing.
I know I am young. I know I am still fighting this battle. But I also know that we are capable of rewiring our brains. It seems scary and time-consuming and like it may not even work. I know this. But I also know it is worth it to invest in yourself by doing what it takes to make the most out of your life. If there is anything I could possibly share with anyone, it is this idea - that we must do what we do for the sake of doing it.
"The trail is the thing. Not the end of the trail. Travel too fast and you will miss all that you are travelling for."
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
WATCH THIS!!!! Seriously. Do it.
Okay, so I like to start my day by either reading, watching National Geographic, or listening to a TEDtalk. Today I decided on a TEDtalk and holy cow am I happy I did!! This video is fantastic and I would highly recommend watching it. It's only 12 minutes. And he's not only insightful, but also hilarious.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLJsdqxnZb0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLJsdqxnZb0
Monday, November 4, 2013
I'll Miss You Gravity.
I think I stopped believing in science - in rules that are true through everything. And it really sucks. Because I love physics. But I just cannot understand how a world could contain both science and complete randomocity as well. But hey- I guess the universe is vast. It contains multitudes and has room to contradict itself, eh?
I always wanted to be a detective. It started at the dentist's office with those good old "Highlight" magazines. You know what I'm talking about - the BEST MAGAZINE EVER which contained a picture search. Well, I rocked at those. Not to brag, but I was a pretty big deal in those waiting rooms. I could find all the hidden images in a couple minutes tops.
I always wanted to be a detective. It started at the dentist's office with those good old "Highlight" magazines. You know what I'm talking about - the BEST MAGAZINE EVER which contained a picture search. Well, I rocked at those. Not to brag, but I was a pretty big deal in those waiting rooms. I could find all the hidden images in a couple minutes tops.
I figured that being good at a picture search was enough to make me a good detective and so I set my sites on it. I grew up watching CSI and Law & Order (SVU, of course). I hate big towns and being around large crowds, but by age 13 I had decided to move to LA or Vegas so I could pursue my dream in an area where crime actually existed (it's hard to commit a crime in a town like Cottonwood, ID). But the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to actually solve crime; I did not want to be surrounded by that tragedy and negativity all the time (call me a girl, but I can't compartmentalize for the life of me). What I wanted was to identify patterns and use them to navigate through life. I like patterns and organization and rules. They give me standards by which I can operate.
But it turns out, there are some things that no amount of rules or theories can neither prepare you for nor guide you through. The main thing being the mind you possess. It's funny really. I lived my whole life thinking I at least had control over my own mind only to discover that I don't. I'm sure some part of me, somewhere, exercises control. Who else could be in control? But I must be terribly out-of-touch with that part of me. Because I am constantly surprised by my reactions and thoughts. And that seems like something that I should probably have a better grip on.
But it turns out, there are some things that no amount of rules or theories can neither prepare you for nor guide you through. The main thing being the mind you possess. It's funny really. I lived my whole life thinking I at least had control over my own mind only to discover that I don't. I'm sure some part of me, somewhere, exercises control. Who else could be in control? But I must be terribly out-of-touch with that part of me. Because I am constantly surprised by my reactions and thoughts. And that seems like something that I should probably have a better grip on.
Or maybe the pattern is just too complex for me to see. What would happen if I figured it out? What would happen if we discovered an algorithm that allowed us to predict what our reactions would be? Would our reactions even have significance at that point? Or would significance then be found in our observance of the algorithm at work? I'm not sure. I am sure that I'm over thinking things. And not making much sense. But if my head is a house filled with doors, it must also be booby trapped. Because lately it seems like I am hanging by one ankle in the middle of a hallway - neither making progress nor accurately assessing where I currently am. And I don't think it matters. I don't think there is a single statement someone could say to me that I could fully identify with or validate in any way. And I truly don't think that is a reason for concern.
But it's okay. Because entropy. Or questions. Or zebra. Or toaster oven. Because it's always okay. For no apparent reason, it just is.
But it's okay. Because entropy. Or questions. Or zebra. Or toaster oven. Because it's always okay. For no apparent reason, it just is.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Keep Telling the Story
The other day in class Matt gave an outstanding presentation on The Lament of the Dead. One of the first things Matt said was, "You aren't the center of anything, you have to somehow connect with those that came before you."
I wrote this down the instant he said it - before I had even processed it. And when the meaning of this statement hit me, I felt something click: something I didn't know I had been searching for, but the second I found it I knew it was what I needed.
When you ask someone what they want to be when they grow up the answer varies; some say "doctor" and others say "teacher" and others say "mechanic." We all choose different things. But no matter what people want to be, they all want to be it in the same manner: happily. One of the biggest problems with our current system of education is that kids are taught how to pass tests and get into college, but they aren't taught skills that will directly foster their happiness; we need to teach kids how to accept criticism and how to be thoughtful, responsible beings and how to properly think through problems they encounter (not just math problems, but life problems).
We aren't the center of anything. We must connect with our predecessors and use what they found out to direct our own searches. If we ignore what previous generations found out we are putting ourselves at an extreme disadvantage; we make more work for ourselves in trying to find things out. But it isn't just that. We need to connect. And the people that came before us are not out of reach. We may not be able to communicate with them in the same way we communicate with living people, but we can still look at their art and read their words and listen to their songs. We can still have a very real interaction with them. And we must.
Kids need to be taught to read. But not so that we can test their memorization of things - so they can appreciate the vast amount of literature in the world: the recordings of thoughts that people have had since the beginning of time.
There comes a point in life when you realize you aren't special; you aren't unique or important at all. And this can be a sobering realization. It can make you insecure; "If I'm not special, why would anyone want me in their life? If I'm not unique, what can I possibly offer this world?" But with that realization also comes another: we are like speakers. The energy of the whole world can use us an outlet and be broadcasted through us. Which is more than we could ever have done as an individual anyhow.
Another think Matt said was to "Keep telling the story" as compared to thinking of how the story "makes you feel" or trying to find the "meaning."
Because, as it turns out, the meaning can only be realized once the story is over; the anagogical is the literal and we must have every word present to see the literal in its entirety. If this is true, which I believe it is, then we will never know the meaning of our lives. Take a second. Think about that. Does it scare you? I know it scares me. Our life is a story we write every second of every day until it is over. And yet we will never know the meaning.
There is a W.H. Auden quote that goes, "We are lived by powers we pretend to understand." I know this is certainly true for me. I have such a desire to understand my life and it's meaning and to understand myself as an individual. I fear that if I don't know myself well enough then I will never be able to fully relate to anyone. And yet it seems no one ever knows who they are. We all live in a state of confusion because we are constantly exposed to stimuli that cause us to react and therefore carve down the statues that we are ever so slightly. We can make guesses at what the end product will be; as we chip more and more away the image becomes clearer. But we do not know when the carving will stop. We do not know when death will come to retrieve us. So we can only speculate. Which is just so silly to do... I don't know. I want to know myself. I want to confidently project my image into the world - to express myself through every action I do. But I'm just not sure it's possible.
If we were meant to know things, wouldn't we know everything? If we were meant to know, words like "doubt" and "confuse" and "question" wouldn't exist in our language. There would be no question marks. And yet there are. So maybe instead of fighting to find answers, we need to learn to embrace living in question. However one goes about doing that.
I wrote this down the instant he said it - before I had even processed it. And when the meaning of this statement hit me, I felt something click: something I didn't know I had been searching for, but the second I found it I knew it was what I needed.
When you ask someone what they want to be when they grow up the answer varies; some say "doctor" and others say "teacher" and others say "mechanic." We all choose different things. But no matter what people want to be, they all want to be it in the same manner: happily. One of the biggest problems with our current system of education is that kids are taught how to pass tests and get into college, but they aren't taught skills that will directly foster their happiness; we need to teach kids how to accept criticism and how to be thoughtful, responsible beings and how to properly think through problems they encounter (not just math problems, but life problems).
We aren't the center of anything. We must connect with our predecessors and use what they found out to direct our own searches. If we ignore what previous generations found out we are putting ourselves at an extreme disadvantage; we make more work for ourselves in trying to find things out. But it isn't just that. We need to connect. And the people that came before us are not out of reach. We may not be able to communicate with them in the same way we communicate with living people, but we can still look at their art and read their words and listen to their songs. We can still have a very real interaction with them. And we must.
Kids need to be taught to read. But not so that we can test their memorization of things - so they can appreciate the vast amount of literature in the world: the recordings of thoughts that people have had since the beginning of time.
There comes a point in life when you realize you aren't special; you aren't unique or important at all. And this can be a sobering realization. It can make you insecure; "If I'm not special, why would anyone want me in their life? If I'm not unique, what can I possibly offer this world?" But with that realization also comes another: we are like speakers. The energy of the whole world can use us an outlet and be broadcasted through us. Which is more than we could ever have done as an individual anyhow.
Another think Matt said was to "Keep telling the story" as compared to thinking of how the story "makes you feel" or trying to find the "meaning."
Because, as it turns out, the meaning can only be realized once the story is over; the anagogical is the literal and we must have every word present to see the literal in its entirety. If this is true, which I believe it is, then we will never know the meaning of our lives. Take a second. Think about that. Does it scare you? I know it scares me. Our life is a story we write every second of every day until it is over. And yet we will never know the meaning.
There is a W.H. Auden quote that goes, "We are lived by powers we pretend to understand." I know this is certainly true for me. I have such a desire to understand my life and it's meaning and to understand myself as an individual. I fear that if I don't know myself well enough then I will never be able to fully relate to anyone. And yet it seems no one ever knows who they are. We all live in a state of confusion because we are constantly exposed to stimuli that cause us to react and therefore carve down the statues that we are ever so slightly. We can make guesses at what the end product will be; as we chip more and more away the image becomes clearer. But we do not know when the carving will stop. We do not know when death will come to retrieve us. So we can only speculate. Which is just so silly to do... I don't know. I want to know myself. I want to confidently project my image into the world - to express myself through every action I do. But I'm just not sure it's possible.
If we were meant to know things, wouldn't we know everything? If we were meant to know, words like "doubt" and "confuse" and "question" wouldn't exist in our language. There would be no question marks. And yet there are. So maybe instead of fighting to find answers, we need to learn to embrace living in question. However one goes about doing that.
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