Saturday, December 24, 2011

Grief is Love Without a Friend


Dearest Solace,

My grief goes before me, like I’m a lost puppy, guiding me back to what it remembers as wholeness within and can’t forget as wholeness with the other. It thinks on the balance once felt and yet still desires. Like the cell deprived of oxygen, it motions for what it needs, making no mockery.

I am barebones, sitting with grief. It strips away the layers of denial—of misdirection and projection, of optimism and hope, of anger—I hide behind. It asks for stinging-nettle honesty. It is the wasp of reality. Though it isolates me in feeling, it frees me to go on living and pushes me to seek connection, if only I will accept its company and stay with it.

If I abandon grief, I abandon myself. And then, I am alone, out in the winter, heart freezing to death.

Grief offers itself as a blanket, not a warm wish. As a kindled flame in the darkness. Grief offers the salve of itself, with or without resolution. It spares me the disservice of avoiding the pink elephant in the room. It does not promise that all things will get better. Its only hope is that I see right through hope to the mirror that is me and into the heart of things, with or without the silver lining. It desires to toughen my soft underbelly and teach me not to roll over for every tongue and hand that commands. Discernment is my friend.

I have to allow grief to restore my faith in forgiveness, in the present and possibility, to amend inconsistencies, and to clarify my vision. Grief sternly demands my attention, presence, and obedience to its golden rule—thou shalt not deny your truth.

My power is to let grief come up from the pit of my stomach and the depth of my heart and place no barrier between it and the ocean of my being. My duty is to honor the sacredness of that ocean.

I admit, there is no blame. And though struggling, I accept change.

Love, The Rejected
xoxo

Friday, November 18, 2011

Excerpt-Love Letters On Interdependence

Letter from the editor:

The following fictional letters are meant to examine the concept of interdependence—its value and place in the world—through the lenses of particular philosophies that depict its absolute truth. As an ever-present phenomenon, interdependence destroys perceived barriers between science and religion and other labels and categories that serve to separate human beings from one another. No man is an island.[1]

Introducing Albert Einstein (b. March 14, 1879 – April 18, 1955), noted German theoretical physicist and philosopher; and Albert Schweitzer (b. January 14, 1875 – September 4, 1965), German-French theologian and physician.

April 24, 1937

Dear Schweitzer,

I have read your “Ethics” on reverence, and I was delighted to find that your rhetoric is concerned more with a Kantian respect for life—though you see trough his dealings with “façade problems”—and has an immeasurably generous and necessary quality essential and wanted of any ethical treatise, which proves more vital and lasting than a mechanistic religiosity, a dead view of the world, that deprives humankind of its very spirit. Simply, the spirit of your ethics is a breath of fresh air sorely needed for the world’s asthmatic lungs. But enough of my fawning. You write of achieving a “spiritual harmony,” and I could not agree more. You say, “…we want to understand life in the universe, in order to enter into harmony with it.[2]” As a philosopher asking the most essential questions, you have produced something akin to the affect of generating an equation for life, with both your logic and imagination (what is one’s intuition), as a scientist would create a mathematical formula for understanding and uncovering the underlying processes of the universe. You’ll be pleased to hear that I have found, within the folds of time and space, an equation for an organizing principle, a God principle, or “Lambda.[3]” It is yet unfinished, but I will state that it follows a formula based on the “super interdependence,”[4] or interdependence, evident in nature. It delights me to strain the whole of my mental, rather entire, Self around the notion of those hidden and apparent organizing processes. As you’ve well heard, Heisenberg’s “uncertainty principle”[5] did not prove occasions of “unpredictability,” or randomness in nature, as many of my colleagues have reasoned. Instead, there are some events in nature that might be too complex for the feeble human mind to grasp and predict without advocation of an easy solution, such as the dastardly idea that events are totally random at the quantum level and completely independent of one another; however, I do believe there to be the existence of some degree of freedom and choice in the universe.[6] I am working towards a dynamic theory of interdependence and a union between the conceptual disconnect physicists are experiencing.[7] Necessarily, one must suspend disbelief for a time before jumping to an easy solution. Wouldn’t you agree, dear Schweitzer? It is my conviction that “interdependence is the rule, not the exception, especially at the quantum level”[8] And the mystery surrounding life, and the organizing processes within, may very well be the cause of all that is known and understood. What beautiful irony! Perhaps, each stem from the same “One”; or perhaps, mystery is that “One” and that which cannot be known but only for what it is not.[9] I ask, what are your notions on interdependence? I look forward to any additional provocation.

Best wishes,
Yours,

Einstein


May 31, 1937

Dearest Einstein,

First and foremost, I am grateful for the time you have taken to enter into dialogue. It is my pleasure that a scientist of your caliber and fame has taken an interest in my article. It would serve you well to read Reverence for Life, an extended version of “Ethics.” You will find more complete musings, therein. I appreciate your generous compliments.

Secondly, Kant busied himself with a class of problems that do not, though intriguing, reach the essential problems. He was more concerned with those façade problems, such as questions of the problem of knowledge and the reality of the world.[10] Kant looked for an absolute ethics and centralized the idea of the respect for the dignity of another’s humanity as his foundational motivation and tenet. Yes, Kant’s contributions were important. Yet, his interest in solving the essential questions the scientific façade were in vain, for the scientific can only lead to one thing—the mysterious. The great issue is that we want to understand this mystery and life in the universe, so as to enter into harmony with it, and to achieve a “spiritual harmony.”[11]

Thirdly, you ask about my thoughts on interdependence, and I want to press you for more on this theory within science. It seems both scientists and philosophers are seeking the essential questions and, perhaps, are finding similar answers or correlates. In a few words, the real issue is reverence for life, as I have stated, and the realization of our utter dependence on events beyond our control. Reverence for life is man’s first spiritual act; and the consequence of this is his realization of that dependence.[12] “We cannot live alone” or, as Donne has stated, “No man is an island.” Thus, we must resign to this fact, and not out of sadness, but because of the “triumph or our will-to-live over whatever happens to us.”[13] Our will-to-live is simply our meditation on ourselves. We find that all of life has this quality—it wills to live. To the extent propriety affords, we must meditate on this fact and come to revere life in ourselves and in others. What should be our attitude toward other life, if it wills to live just as we do? It seems we are one in the same in this respect and because of life’s very basic striving, which is the will-to-live. Science can only lead to the mystery of life, and our meditation upon other life will only lead to the truth about nature: “it longs for fullness and development as deeply as I do myself.”[14] This truth and fact provides unequivocal evidence of the existence of what you call “interdependence,” which I assume means that your science has discovered evidence of its existence on the material plane, and is no longer as thin and airy as the purely theoretical.

Lastly, I am acquainted with Heisenberg’s principle, and that you outright reject it or sincerely question its validity.[15] It clearly goes against the very fabric of your philosophy on life, which I’d like to know more about. What is this “Lambda” principle of which you speak? Is it an attempt to create something more tangible, concerning the Creative Force? I wonder because it seems to me as though this Creative Force is ethically neutral. It creates and destroys and works purposefully toward certain ends, but that cannot be defended. And since we are not nature’s goal, should this Creative Force be our goal?[16] Truly, we are seeking a relation to it and wanting to give meaning to life in the world. To feign independence and to admonish life as random only serves to disconnect us from our will-to-live and our ethical strivings for meaning and place and to be our best. I venture to say that you are certainly correct: We need not an easy solution and a science that supports randomness, and meaninglessness only suggests an easy solution to a surface problem. We must venture beyond and cling to life because we revere it. Support work for conceived separation, meaninglessness, and futility, or puerile skepticism—as science tends to advocate—is in tense opposition to an ethics that would prove helpful and enabling of life to attain its highest development. This other is an evil, as it chooses to annihilate, hamper, or hinder life.[17] Though what is mysterious cannot be proven, truth of its value and Mystery, itself, cannot be abandoned.[18] The “incomprehensibility” of which you speak serves to support the simple fact of consciousness—“I will to live,” not “I am life,” for “life continues to be a mystery too great to understand. I know only that I cling to it. I fear its cessation—death. I dread its diminution—pain. I seek its enlargement—joy.”[19] Mystery does not negate the evidence of life itself. We must “suspend disbelief,” as you say, and move past the “logical disconnect” between spiritually and science to a simpler groundwork. I say again, it is, “I will to live.” That is an healthy beginning.

Warmest regards to you and your wife,

Albert Schweitzer

[1] John Donne.
[2] This is one of three desires in man that Albert Schweitzer mentions in “The Ethics of Reverence For Life, ” an article he published in 1936 in the periodical Christendom, that constitute “the basis of our striving for harmony with the spiritual element” (2).
[3] Years ago, I came across a book about Albert Einstein’s scientific developments on a “dark” or an unknown fourth element or principle that he was trying to complete. The scientific community balked at his desire to prove his theory of God empirically, mathematically, and theoretically.
[4] The evolution of quantum physics has led physicists to the idea of superinterdependence; that “the message is clear […] everything in nature is interconnected and interdependent to various degrees,” according to Gary E. Schwartz and William L. Simon in The G.O.D Experiments (108). They further elucidate this concept, stating, “A system is a set of components that mutually affect one another. In the process of components joining together, interacting, and sharing information and energy, the system changes over time. The inherent property of systems to change is termed ‘dynamical’ […] anything that exists in a dynamical system is constantly changing over time through interdependence and feedback” (109). Einstein was no stranger to the profound implications superinterdependence had on our vision of the world—nature and the cosmos—scientifically and religiously.
[5] In 1927, Werner Heisenberg introduced a theoretical paper on quantum mechanics after he had applied a mathematical system, which strictly dealt with experimental data and mathematical results, to atomic processes, calling it “matrix mechanics.” His paper proved to be a turning point in physics, despite the fact that other physicists were reluctant to accept a system that didn’t provide a visual model. Puzzled over basic quantum properties of electrons, Heisenberg began to experiment with these sub-atomic particles in the lab. He found that measuring an electron’s behavior with gamma rays would change the electron’s behavior; that one could either measure the position of the particle or its momentum; that the more precisely one measured the property of one, the more the other property was affected. He dubbed his findings and theoretical paper the “uncertainty principle,” which he theorized was proof of “unpredictability” (randomness) at the quantum level. Though many resisted his idea, it eventually became accepted as a fundamental law of nature and facilitated the growth of the field as a consequence.
[6] Einstein’s beliefs about “unpredictability,” “interdependence,” and the existence of free will come from Schwartz and Simon.
[7] In 1964, J. S. bell published “Bell’s Theorem,” a theorem cast in terms of a hidden variable theory. The fundamental tenet is based on an experiment of two photons observed in the lab: “once together and now traveling in opposite directions at the speed of light—continue as if they were one […] as if there were no distance between them”; essentially, they begin together, travel to opposite ends of the universe, and what happens in one can be precisely and instantly observed in the other, which is a phenomenon known as “entanglement” (Schwartz and Simon 107-108). Furthermore, empirical evidence of what is termed “nonlocality” provokes questions in regards to the obvious logical and conceptual disconnect in the reasoning used by quantum physicists to understand quantum physics and the “logic used to apply statistical data” (Schwartz and Simon 108).
[8] Schwartz and Simon 107-114.
[9] Einstein was known to take an interest in the writings and the Jewish philosopher and codifier known as RAMBAM, an acronym for Rabbi Moses ben Maimon, or Moses Maimonides (1135-1204).
[10] Albert Schweitzer analyzes Immanuel Kant and his philosophical dealings with so-called façade problems, which he deems are not the “real, elementary matters” and “are [only] important looking, but not really connected with the main structure” in “The Ethics of Reverence for Life.” Copyright by permission of World Council of Churches. (1).
[11] Schweitzer 1.
[12] Schweitzer states that reverence is our real issue, and that “our dependence upon events is not absolute; it is qualified by our spiritual freedom” (5).
[13] Schweitzer deems “resignation” the “second spiritual act” and the very basis of ethics (5).
[14] This is part of Schweitzer’s argument for his ethics (7).
[15] Einstein disagreed with common interpretations of Heisenberg’s theory, charging it as incomplete if not outright wrong, and states, in 1935, “God does not play dice with the universe,” as his central objection (missing source). Einstein rejected the assumed idea of randomness, which other physicists used to explain why they were unable to predict simultaneously both the speed and momentum of quantum events, and recognized a far greater level of connectedness and interdependence, at both the “macro world of gravitational fields and the micro world of quantum fields” (Schwartz and Simon 107-108). According to Schwartz and Simon, Einstein simply imagined an as of late, still yet hidden set of complex organizing processes and could not accept independent processes within a system he believed to be intricately connected and super-organized.
[16] According to Schweitzer, man is not nature’s goal; when considering the universe, he is rather “insignificant” (5).
[17] Schweitzer’s definition of evil follows (7).
[18] Schweitzer states, “That a truth cannot be proved by argument” isn’t justification for its abandonment, as long as it, in itself, possesses value (3).
[19] Schweitzer argues for Mystery’s importance regarding our very basic human motivation. Within the text, he annihilates Descartes’ “I think” and establishes that the fact of consciousness is not enough; instead, he asserts, one must meditate on the fact of consciousness, like reflexive awareness.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

We've Got It

We've got it all fucked up when the TV's higher than the temple.

We've got it all fucked up when the money symbol $ is higher than the heavens.

We've got it all fucked up when we grind ourselves to the bone into the deep blue future.

We've got it all fucked up when we've lost face to accompany the pretense of our most banal and mundane dreams.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Poem: Happiness Happens, Actually

Happiness Happens, Actually

Actually sat down for tea, but ended up having rice liquor. She preferred

tequila to both, but took what she could get—you know, he was paying.

She thought, I see no ‘tea for two,’ as promised, and that she’d rather date a

guy with pretty blue eyes because they seemed more “angelic,” but it was—

an annoyance in spite of good looks.

Actually knew better than to answer the call of a blind date and a friendly nudge.

But, here she was, sitting in a clown suit—a tribute to Halloween ‘08

and a week of build up—entertaining thoughts of fucking a stranger

just because and fingering her sake cup erotically.

If this clown suit gets me laid, there is no greater God than Desperation.

And if this guy pushes his glasses up his nose one more time…

Actually wanted to punch him.

Guy made obvious attempts to bridge the gap and distort the awkward silence.

His voice cracked: “You’re a cancer, aren’t you?”

Guy was avoiding the obvious—an avoidance too unreal for Actually.

She took off her red nose and squeezed it, making a fist.

“What about me seems so much like a Cancer, Guy?”

Guy, startled, index-fingered his glasses till they were flush with his ‘brows.

His hand darted for his expensive apple-flavored sake.

Fucking nerd. Maybe his dick is big. Might be this fucker’s only saving grace.

Guy’s lips tightened, reaching sideways and skyward: “Excuse me. That was tangy.”

“No worries.” Actually, taunting a Russian accent, eyed Guy flirtatiously.

“Well, I’m embarrassed. I admit—I don’t know why I said that.”

Actually was a Leo and, at that very moment, started thinking “lesbian” was

the way to go. She lit a cigarette and mentally memo-ed.

Note to Self.

But, alas, she had already been down that road—and pussy hadn’t really spun her skirt.

Actually’s doubts were suddenly slighted by invasive twinges of compassion. Out of nowhere, she felt like doing someone else a favor.

She imagined she would fuck him in the best way possible. She would build him up “hard” and let him down “easy.”

While her short-spurted fantasies played out, she felt herself becoming wet.

“Could it be my unruly appearance and soft pink core?”

40—love.

Actually uncrossed her legs and, with the precision of a beach volleyball nailing the sand, farted.

Her calculations, like two-faced bitches, had turned against her. She was beat-red with embarrassment. Beneath the ludicrous and vindictive veneer of face paint, a semblance of humility began to surface.

Now, it was she who was squirming. She could no longer meet Guy’s once darting eyes with such prowess and strength. She was no longer the beast in the jungle.

And then, for the first time all night, Guy scooted his chair close, leaned forward, and met, what he’d later call, her “fortuitous look of consternation” with the same sassiness she’d had.

He cleared his throat: “You know, I’ve never smashed a clown before.”

And then, for the first time in a long time, it happened—happiness happened. Her once frozen, brokeback mountain heart had been surprised off its high horse just long enough to thaw.

It was then, during the April of those unexpected happenings, that Actually was able to love again.

Monday, December 6, 2010

A Work of Art is Good If It Has Arisen Out of Necessity

From Letters to a Young Poet
Rainer Maria Rilke

Paris

Febuary 17, 1903

Dear Sir,

Your letter arrived just a few days ago. I want to thank you for the great confidence you have placed in me. That is all I can do. I cannot discuss your verses, for any attempt at criticism would be foreign to me. Nothing touches a work of art so little as words of criticism: they always result in more or less fortunate misunderstandings. Things aren't so sayable and tangible as people would usually have us believe; most experiences are unsayable, they happen in a space that no word has ever entered, and more unsayable than all other things are works of art, those mysterious existences, whose life endures beside our own small transitory life.

...You ask whether your verses are any good. You ask me. You have asked others before this. You send them to magazines. You compare them with other poems, and you are upset when certain editors reject your work. Now (since you have said you want my advice) I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing. You are looking outside, and that is what you should avoid most right now. No one can advise you or help you--no one. There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: must I write? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple "I must," then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your while life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse. Then come close to Nature. Then, as if no one had ever tried before, try to say what you see and feel and love and lose. Don't write love poems; avoid those forms that are too facile and ordinary: they are the hardest to work with, and it takes great, fully ripened power to create something individual where good, even glorious, traditions exist in abundance. So rescue yourself from these general themes and write about what your everyday life offers you; describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty - describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the Things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember. If your everyday life seems poor, don't blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator there is not poverty and no poor, indifferent place. And even if you found yourself in some prison, whose walls let in none of the world's sounds - wouldn't you still have your childhood, that jewel beyond all price, that treasure house of memories? Turn your attentions to it. Try to raise up the sunken feelings of this enormous past; your personality will grow stronger, your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the twilight, where the noise of other people passes by, far in the distance. - And if out of this turning-within, out of this immersion in your own world, poems come, then you will not think of asking anyone whether they are good or not. Nor will you try to interest magazines in these works: for you will see them as your dear natural possession, a piece of your life, a voice from it. A work of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity. That is the only way one can judge it. So, dear Sir, I can't give you any advice but this: to go into yourself and see how deep the place is from which your life flows; at its source you will find the answer to the question whether you must create. Accept that answer, just as it is given to you, without trying to interpret it. Perhaps you will discover that you are called to be an artist. Then take the destiny upon yourself, and bear it, its burden and its greatness, without ever asking what reward might come from outside. For the creator must be a world for himself and must find everything in himself and in Nature, to whom his whole life is devoted.

But after this descent into yourself and into your solitude, perhaps you will have to renounce becoming a poet (if, as I have said, one feels one could live without writing, then one shouldn't write at all). Nevertheless, even then, this self-searching that I ask of you will not have been for nothing. Your life will still find its own paths from there, and that they may be good, rich, and wide is what I wish for you, more than I can say.

What else can I tell you? It seems to me that everything has its proper emphasis; and finally I want to add just one more bit of advice: to keep growing, silently and earnestly, through your while development; you couldn't disturb it any more violently than by looking outside and waiting for outside answers to question that only your innermost feeling, in your quietest hour, can perhaps answer...

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Poem: Turtle Baby



In Memory of Judith Gardner, Sean Hughston, and
Souls Gone Home

Turtle Baby

The turtle that carries home on its back carries the
weight of the world without ever saying a word.

Movement is slow but steady.

A turtle will be a turtle, no
more or no less than a turtle.


The Earth spins on its axis around 1,000 miles per hour,
while revolving around the sun at 67,000 miles per hour.

All those (r)evolutions.

From outer space, city lights emanate,
like glow worms or kindling fire.

God is an astronaut, sailing through the
dust and memory of eternal falling stars.

I am His Judas, Her Mary Magdalene, Sweet Jesus, Ruth, the Israel who was once Jacob.


Little turtle babies leave the sanctity of eggshell, rake
the sand with their little turtle baby flippers, return home.

Moths to the Proxigean flame of the new moon.

Soft shells harden with each successive elliptical rotation of
the Earth around the Sun and the Moon in love with the tide.


We’re all following the path of
a kite lost in the infinite sky.

A yellow balloon ascending as one final salute.

What lies below are the memories of
the living—our only afterlife.

On Slights

My aim is to deliver
a toxin to your liver.

The dead dog
is where you
go to die.