A friend of mine asked this question the other day:

Are “Faith” and “Reason” mutually exclusive?

I replied:

—–

Not at all.

However, our understanding of what “reason” means determines the relationship between it and faith.

I think most people in “our” culture consider Rationalism and Logic to be synonymous, and so both are seen as interchangeable tools in the process of “reasoning”.

However, when we have children we quickly discover that the two processes are at odds with each other.

For the parent’s rules and guidance are primarily logical:

* “If you do this then that will be the result”

* “If you don’t do this then you will get a different result”

(and perhaps most compelling)

* “Because I said so!”

Children, on the other hand, quickly learn to respond to parental logic with rationalism (do you really need an example ;^)

The sage parent must decide at what point and to what extent they will loosen their logical boundaries so that their child can develop into a person who is something other than a robot.

The underlying logic of Orthodox Christian faith is expressed as a reality which is both presumed:

* “In the beginning was The Word and The Word was with God and The Word was God” The Gospel according to The Apostle St John The Theologian 1:1 (NKJV))

and mystical:

“Come now, and let us reason together,” says The Lord, “although your sins are like crimson, I shall make them white like snow, and although they are as scarlet, I shall make them white like wool…” Isaiah 1:18 (LXX-St Athanasius Academy Septuagint-SAAS)

The author of The Book of Hebrews put it this way:

“…And faith is of things hoped for a confidence, of matters not seen a conviction…” Hebrews 11:1 (Young’s Literal Translation)

Robert Pirsig in “Zen and The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values” says virtually the same thing regarding a presumption of that which he called “Quality”, something he believed under-girded the pre-sophist Greek paradigm.

Now, rationalism CAN (and, I think, SHOULD) function within a logical paradigm, in order for faith to mature.

However, rationalism without a logical foundation becomes the enemy of the faith-based process, and true, honest reasoning is tainted.

But occasionally one comes across passages which provide unexpected insights. The following excerpt on carbon, from the book LILA by Robert M Pirsig is one such.

The chemistry of life is the chemistry of carbon. What distinguishes all the species of plants and animals is, in the final analysis, differences in the way carbon atoms choose to bond.

All life contains carbon yet a study of properties of carbon atom shows that except for the extreme hardness of one of its crystalline forms there is not much unusual about it. In terms of other physical constants of melting point, conductivity, ionization, and so on, it does just about what its position on the periodic table of the elements suggests it might do. Certainly there’s no hint of any miraculous powers waiting to spring chemistry professors upon a lifeless planet.

One physical characteristic that makes carbon unique is that it is the lightest and most active of the group IV of atoms whose chemical bonding characteristics are ambiguous. Usually the positively valenced metals in groups I through III combine chemically with negatively valenced non-metals in groups V through VII and not with other members of their own group. But the group containing carbon is halfway between the metals and non-metals, so that sometimes carbon combines with metals and sometimes with non-metals, and sometimes it just sits there and doesn’t combine with anything, and sometimes it combines with itself in long chains and branched trees and rings.

Carbon bonding was a balanced mechanism they could take over. It was a vehicle they could steer to all sorts of freedom by selecting first one bonding preference and then another in an almost unlimited variety of ways.

And what a variety has been chosen. Today there are more than two million known compounds of carbon, roughly twenty times as many as all the other known chemical compounds in the world.

 Today, a world without carbon is unimaginable. Our “bond” with carbon is intimate, to say the least. Most things we consider indispensable, the fuel we burn, the plastics we use, all comprise of carbon in one form or another. Diamond, the most coveted precious stone is a form of carbon. The amount of work universe had to do to generate carbon atoms and then scatter them sufficiently in star systems so as to engender life is stupendous. Here is how Dr. Paul Davies described it in The Mind of God.

 While investigating the nuclear reactions that lead to the formation of carbon in the stellar cores, [Fred] Hoyle was struck by the fact that the key reaction proceeds only because of a lucky fluke. Carbon nuclei are made by a rather tricky process involving the simultaneous encounter of three high-speed helium nuclei, which then stick together. Because of the rarity of triple-nucleus encounters, the reaction can proceed at a significant rate only at certain well-defined energies (termed “resonances”), where the reaction rate is substantially amplified by quantum effects. By good fortune, one of these resonances is positioned just about right to correspond to the sort of energies that helium nuclei have inside large stars.

Where scientists found inscrutability, Neo-Spiritualists discerned divinity, and ascribed cosmic significance to the structure of carbon atom (Link). Unaware of all this, the carbon atom continued to perform its material and spiritual duties diligently until we chose to discredit it. Carbon was accused of causing climate change and global warming.

While we routinely bandy about carbon trading, carbon emissions, carbon footprint and black carbon little do we realize that it is the basic building block of life. The breath of life has developed into intelligent beings thanks to the versatility of a providential atom. Our sense of awe and respect would return once we ponder over the timeless, torturous path life has taken to turn an inanimate atom into animated spirit.

I may not quite be well versed enough in classic Greek dialogs to fully “get” this. I understand and appreciate that the author was trying to find a way to synthesize his own thoughts about Eastern philosophy with his classical Western training, but I found it sort of boring and confusing. I believe it was revolutionary at the time, but now if I wanted to find out more about Asian philosophy, I’d go right to the source (and have, see Masao Abe’s Zen and Western Thought.)

What I did find interesting in the story was the narrator’s portrayal of how he remembers what he was like before he had a nervous breakdown and received shock treatments, as opposed to how he is now. He attempts to reconcile his emerging original personality with his new one in a way that parallels his integration of Eastern and Western thought.

I wish there had been more focus on how the re-emergence of the original personality was going to affect his family relationships. Would he go back to his obsession with philosophical questions to the exclusion of his family, or would he now be able to find a better balance?

A final thought is a quote I heard recently to the effect that the more a man considers his work to be revolutionary and important to the world, the more likely he is to have a nervous breakdown, which seems to be what happened here.

Nedir iyi, Phaedrus ve nedir iyi olmayan;

Bunu söyleyecek birine ihtiyacımız var mı?

“Chris ve ben gece iyi bir uyku çektik ve bu sabah sırt çantalarımızı dikkatle hazırlayıp yola düzüldük; şu anda bir saattir dağ yolundayız. Burada, vadinin dibindeki orman çoğunlukla çam, az miktarda kavak ve geniş yapraklı fundalıklardan oluşmuş. Kanyonun dik duvarları iki yanımızda yükseliyor. Patika ara sıra kanyon deresi kıyısındaki güneşli çayırlara açılıyor, ama hemen ardından çamların koyu gölgesine giriyor. Patikanın zemini çam iğnelerinin oluşturduğu yumuşak ve esnek bir tabakayla kaplı. Buralar çok sessiz.

 Böyle dağlar ve dağda yolculuk yapanlar ve başlarına gelen olaylar yalnızca Zen literatüründe değil, tüm büyük dinlerin öykülerinde anlatılır. Fiziksel dağın, insanlar ve hedefleri arasında duran tinsel dağlarla alegorik ilintisini kurmak kolay ve doğaldır. Şu vadidekiler gibi, insanlar yaşamları boyunca tinsel dağları gördükleri halde asla bunlara tırmanmazlar. Orada bulunmuş olanları dinlemekle yetinip, zorluklardan kaçtıkları için hoşnutturlar. Bu dağlara yapılan kimi geziler de, hedefe giden en iyi ve en tehlikesiz yolları bilen deneyimli kılavuzlarla yapılır. Deneyimsiz ve güvensiz olanları ise kendi yollarını kendileri bulmaya kalkarlar. Bunların pek azı başarıya ulaşır, ama bazen kimileri yılmaz bir istencin, şansın ve inayetin sayesinde yolunu bulabilir. Bunlar, yol sayısının tek ya da sabit olmadığını ötekilerden daha iyi fark ederler. Ne kadar çok insan ruhu varsa, o kadar da çok yol vardır.”

Robert M. Pirsig

Zen ve Motosiklet Bakım Sanatı (Değerlerin Sorgulanması) adlı eserden kısa bir alıntı.
İngilizceden Çeviren: Süha Sertabiboğlu, Ayrıntı Yayınları

“Dağa çıkarken, olabildiğince en az çabayla ve hevessiz davranmak gerekir. Hızınızı kendi doğanızın gerçeği belirlemeli. Yerinizde duramıyorsanız hızlanın. Soluğunuz kesilirse yavaşlayın. Dağa, yerinde duramamakla, bitip tükenmek arasında ki denge durumuna göre tırmanın. İlerileri artık düşünmez olduğunuzda, her adım, yalnızca sizi sonuca götüren bir araç değil; eşiz bir olaydır. Bu yaprağın kenarları dişli. Bu kaya sağlam görünmüyor. Daha yakın olmasına karşın, buradan kar daha az görünüyor. Bunlar, dikkat etmemiz gereken şeyler. Yalnızca, ilerdeki bir hedef için yaşamak, sığ bir şeydir. Yaşamı dağın tepesi değil; eğimleri ayakta tutar. Her şeyin büyüdüğü yerdir burası.

 Ama elbette, tepe olmadan eğimler de olmaz. Eğimleri tanımlayan tepedir.”

 Robert M. Pirsig

Zen ve Motosiklet Bakım Sanatı (Değerlerin Sorgulanması) adlı eserden kısa bir alıntı.
İngilizceden Çeviren: Süha Sertabiboğlu, Ayrıntı Yayınları

“To travel is better to arrive.”

Earlier this year I read  Robert Pirsig’s most famous work and thoroughly enjoyed it.  It would not be out of the ordinary to assume an average American preparing to travel would dedicate one bag solely to items for travel entertainment. Books, music, magazines, & film, all specifically chosen to distract the traveler between orgin and destination.

To point out the obvious correlation of western travel and the western lifestyle would be nothing novel.  As youngsters we are influenced by our teachers, our peers, our parents and most media outlets to always look ahead.   “Once you are older…”  ”Get good grades in high school for your the future of your college experience.”  ”Choose a good college, a good major, good living arrangements.” “Save up for a rainy day.”  ”Think of your children’s future.”

The cynic’s interpretation of these statements could read “Always remain productive for the sake of perpetuating western society.  The present is a necessary evil.”   The pressure to buy a larger residence and the current toys becomes ingrained in the minds of Americans.  Marriage encourages this further as spouses pressure and acquiesce to the needs of an idealized American family.  Imagine a world where married college graduates raised children in 2-bedroom apartments (New York residents are exempt).  It’s almost laughable.

The Western lifestyle is propagated through a dependence on production and transactions.   Imagine if we were curious about the story of the things we can observe while traveling to our places of work.  The dressed up elderly man crossing the street, the drama that surrounds the family owned shoe repair shop, the unique building that defines the character of a neighborhood, the pattern of the shadows cast by the numerous clouds above.  (It is worth taking note that this perspective does not necessarily require travel)

Those who truly travel are susceptible to shifts in perception.  In my experience, those who seek truth in what they observe are more intelligent, more interesting, and more sincere than most.  But how can one seek truth when one refuses to observe?

Begin with curiousity and follow with imagination.

So many important discussions but so little time…

For a lively debate about the legacy of the Tiananmen square protest, check out the comments on Trahern’s post  over at critical political. Also, for those of you interested in the on-going intelligence question, check out of the comments of my previous post. 

Both of the aforementioned discussions deserve their own posts, but there is something else I wanted to write about first. In his post “Sgt. Pepper’s Day Mojo- Blogging,” Evan discusses Lane Wallace’s response to Matthew Crawford’s “Shop Class as Soul Craft.”  

In what seems like a more practical rendition of Pirsig’s Motorcycle Maintenance, Craword argues that “We in the West have arranged our institutions to prevent the concentration of political power. … But we have failed utterly to prevent the concentration of economic power, or take account of how such concentration damages the conditions under which full human flourishing becomes possible (it is never guaranteed).” Or, as Michael Agger of Slate puts it:

 Strive not for flimsy new economy “flexibility” but for real, handy expertise in a chosen field. The point is to achieve mastery, which in turn gives you a skill not subject to the whims of office politics. Finally, think about how your work affects others. This is a hedge against both narcissistic creativity and doing actual harm.

Implicit throughout Crawford’s discussion is a deep-seated aversion to the cubicle lifestyle.  Crawford finds the notion of an office “team” especially depressing, beccause for Craword it is nothing but a psychological shield created solely to shield the individual worker from the realization that he or she truly is not contributing anything tangible to the project at hand. I mean, isn’t this the tragic irony that makes The Office such a funny show? The “team” also leaves the individual feeling helpess, with “difficulty imagining how he might earn a living otherwise.” Motorcycle repair is emblematic of the alternative Crawford advocates: an occupation with a clear bright-line discerning success from failure (does the bike start?) that also fosters the mastery of skills within the individual. Think of the scene in office space where the consultants are interviewing the gentleman in human resources whose job it is to carry customer information from his desk to the one in the next cubicle. No, I do not think that Crawford would consider “people skills,” comparable to, let’s say, mechanical prowess. 

 Crawford cites the concentration of economic power (quoted above) as one of the predominant reasons for our economic/existential woes.  Although I am still unclear on what Crawford means exactly by the “concentration of economic power,” my eyes lit up  at the emphasis he places on the importance of human “flourishing.” Aristotle’s idea of eudaimonia, which is often mistranslated as happiness (it really is something more like well-being or, more literally, well-spirited), is inexorably linked with the idea of the fulfillment of function, or “arete,” in Greek. Individuals, according to Aristotle, have different functions and ought to aspire towards fulfilling them to the best of their abilities. Crawford’s implication is that the concentration of economic power dramatically narrows the career paths (and thus the job skills) individuals can take, thereby decreasing the opportunities they have to truly flourish. It is important to note that Pirsig, another formative influence in Crawford’a book, also found this idea of arete important, especially as a way of explaining his concept of “quality.” This is all especially interesting because one feels like things are starting to change, especially in light of the recent economic crisis. Anyways, there is one side of the argument. I have already written enough, so I will deal with Wallace’s reponse tomorrow.

PS: I am really sorry about the lack of updates. The whole 8-5 thing is taking some adjusting to and I have yet to find time for the blog. Hopefully that will change.

Cosa compicciare con la mia vita, se dentro ho delle idee e dei desideri che ancora non sono riuscito a identificare chiaramente?

In queste condizioni la cosa più difficile – o comunque una di quelle che blocca più persone – è il partire: aspetti il momento giusto, di avere chiaro dove vuoi andare a parare, così da non commettere grossolani errori che poi ti saranno apportatori di numerose critiche da parte di coloro che vedono le cose sotto punti di vista diversi dai tuoi, tanto più aspre quanto più stravagante ai loro occhi ciò che vuoi costruire, e quanto più importante per loro l’argomento cui si riferisce.

Ma se continui con queste preoccupazioni con ogni probabilità non partirai mai: è molto difficile, se non impossibile, arrivare a formulare un qualcosa di completo senza ricevere i necessari complementi e idee dal mondo “pratico”. Come dire che “buttarsi” nell’azzardo di un pensiero non ancora ben formato è un ottimo modo per formarlo appieno. È questo più o meno quello che intendevo nel mio 2° post quando scrivevo della necessità di partire da qualche parte, aborrendo la perfezione e permettendomi di fare errori: li avrei corretti poi durante il percorso.

D’altra parte – specie per questioni importanti e che implicano una certa responsabilità – non puoi neppure partire “alla caciarona” rischiando di distruggere cose di riguardo in nome di un’idea sbagliata o di un desiderio che non nutrirai il mese seguente.

Scegliere il momento giusto in cui partire non è sempre facile, e lo si azzecca soltanto indovinando la corretta sintesi fra il disegno di ciò che già sei riuscito a renderti chiaro e l’azzardo di sperimentarlo anzitempo integrandolo così nel mondo.

Io sono sempre stato una persona maturante dentro una gran matassa di cose risultanti a volte interessanti per qualcuno e vacue infantilità per altri.

Tutt’ora non ho ben capito cosa compicciare nella mia vita: dire “farò il medico” non mi è sufficiente né dal punto di vista dell’onestà intellettuale né da quello della gratificazione, come non mi basta qualunque altra strada preformata che io conosca.

Così da sempre so con chiarezza che voglio buttare nel gran calderone delle mia attività tutte le cose che mi piace fare: disegnare, scrivere qualche canzone, scrivere qualche poesia, qualche libro, filosofeggiare sulle cose e sulla scienza, giocare, ridere e scherzare, dedicarmi alla ricerca di una soluzione ai problemi del mondo, fare figli e crescerli con una compagna, vivere in compagnia di buoni amici con cui dedicarmi intensamente a un sogno, crearmi un ambiente favoloso attorno a me che comprenda uno splendido rapporto con la natura, informarmi e crescere in cultura, dedicarmi alla ricerca scientifica e fare importanti scoperte e tutto quello che dimentico, e quello che non c’è verso scrivere.

Ovviamente da sempre mi hanno insegnato che non va bene fare così ed è meglio fare bene una cosa sola che farne tante male, ma io non sono del tutto d’accordo, anche a causa dell’essermi chiesto “ma chi li mette i limiti che stabiliscono che una cosa è una cosa sola, a sé stante, mentre un’altra cosa è in realtà un’insieme di cose?”, così mi sono risposto che l’integrazione olistica di tutte le cose che mi interessano è la sola cosa alla quale ho deciso di dedicarmi, e ho deciso di farlo bene.

Ad ogni modo ho trovato quello che credo un buon modo per partire e sbloccarmi senza dover per forza attendere una “ondata di cristallizzazione”**, che oltre ad essere per me molto divertente rende il momento giusto di partire sempre e solo l’adesso.

Ho deciso di incominciare una specie di Tour in giro per il mondo per cercare quelle realtà che compongono alcuni frammenti della realtà che voglio creare io, e per cercare le persone in sintonia coi miei stessi desideri.

Ho già in mente 2 viaggi: il primo nel mondo di ecovillaggi, paesini ed ecologico, il secondo in quello della Sanità… sono 2 cose che comunque so appartenere con molta probabilità al mio futuro, quindi vale la pena partire con esse.

Spiegherò meglio in altri post cosa ne farò, e si vedrà col tempo che succederà!

Fin da ora sia chiaro che chiunque voglia condividere con me qualsivoglia tappa dei miei tour, o darmi idee ecc. ecc. è ben accetto!

Via via che il tour andrà avanti delineerò le caratteristiche del mio vivere ideale e le maniere per realizzarlo, e le persone con cui farlo.

Ma queste cose si vedranno più in là,
non c’è fretta.

* questo titolo l’ho ripreso da un motto della Fraternità di Romena

** “ondata di cristallizzazione” è un concetto che riprendo da Pirsig, e più o meno vuol dire il formarsi automatico e istantaneo di un’intera matassa di pensieri a partire da dei frammenti spersi qua e là nella propria testa, quasi come una sorta di illuminazione..

(Publicado originalmente dia 9 de setembro de 2008 em http://stoa.usp.br/tom/weblog/31696.html)

[...]

“O discurso começa referindo-se a uma notícia sobre um prédio de igreja rural que tinha sobre a entrada principal um luminoso de marca de cerveja. O prédio fora vendido, e estava sendo usado como bar. E de supor que, a essa altura, a turma começasse a rir. As farras da faculdade eram famosas, e a metáfora mais ou menos correspondia. O artigo dizia que os provisores receberam algumas reclamações por causa disso. Era uma igreja católica, e o padre encarregado de responder às críticas parecia bastante irritado com o que estava acontecendo. Para ele, o fato mostrava que as pessoas ignoravam o que fosse uma igreja. Pensavam que tijolos, tábuas e vidro constituíam uma igreja? Ou o formato do telhado? Aquilo era um exemplo do mesmo materialismo desprezado pela Igreja, disfarçado em piedade. O prédio em questão não era mais um lugar santo. Perdera o caráter sagrado, e pronto. O anúncio de cerveja estava à porta de um bar, não de uma igreja. Aqueles que não conheciam a diferença estavam simplesmente mostrando o que eram.

Fedro declarou então que existia o mesmo tipo de confusão com relação à universidade. E por isso era difícil compreender a perda do reconhecimento. A verdadeira universidade não é um objeto material. Não é um conjunto de edifícios que pode ser defendido pela polícia. Quando uma faculdade perdia o reconhecimento, não vinha ninguém fechar a escola. Não havia penalidades legais, multas, nem mandados de prisão. As aulas não terminavam. Tudo continuava como antes. Os alunos recebiam a mesma educação que receberiam se a escola continuasse sendo reconhecida. Só que haveria aceitação oficial de uma situação já existente. Era algo parecido com a excomunhão. A verdadeira universidade, que nenhuma assembléia poderia influenciar, e que nunca poderia ser identificada como qualquer disposição de tijolos, tábuas e vidro, simplesmente declararia que este não é mais um “lugar santo”. A verdadeira universidade deixaria este local, e só sobrariam os tijolos, os livros e as manifestações materiais.

Os estudantes devem ter ficado perplexos ao ouvir tais idéias, e creio que Fedro deve ter-se calado por um bom tempo, para que elas fossem absorvidas, talvez esperando por uma pergunta do tipo: “E o que acha você que é a verdadeira universidade?”

Em suas anotações encontra-se a seguinte resposta:

“A verdadeira universidade não se localiza num lugar específico. Não tem propriedades, não paga salários, não recebe taxas materiais. A verdadeira universidade é um estado de espírito. É a grande herança do pensamento racional que nos foi legada ao correr dos séculos e que não tem lugar específico para ficar. É um estado de espírito que se renova através dos séculos, graças a um grupo de pessoas que ostentam tradicionalmente o título de professor, título esse que, no fundo, também não faz parte da universidade. A verdadeira universidade é nada mais nada menos que o corpo contínuo da razão em si.

Além desse estado de espírito, a razão , existe uma entidade legal que, infelizmente, atende pelo mesmo nome, mas que é muito diferente. Esta é uma empresa sem fins lucrativos, uma filial do estado, com endereço específico. Possui propriedades, pode pagar salários, receber dinheiro e reagir também a pressões do legislativo.

Porém, esta segunda universidade, a empresa legal, não pode ensinar, não pode gerar novos conhecimentos, nem avaliar idéias. Não é a verdadeira universidade. É apenas o prédio da igreja, o cenário, o local onde se criaram condições favoráveis para que a verdadeira Igreja exista.

As pessoas que não enxergam essa diferença ficam sempre confusas, pensando que controlar o prédio da igreja é o mesmo que controlar a Igreja. Eles vêem os professores como empregados da segunda universidade que deveriam deixar a razão de lado quando lhes fosse solicitado e obedecer ordens sem objeções. Exatamente como os empregados de outros tipos de empresa.

Enxergam a segunda universidade, não a primeira.”

[...]

O objetivo principal da Igreja da Razão é sempre o velho objetivo socrático de buscar a verdade, em suas formas em constante mutação, conforme é revelada pelo processo da racionalidade. Tudo o mais deve subordinar-se a isso. Normalmente, tal objetivo não entra em choque com o intuito local de edificar a comunidade, mas às vezes ocorrem certos conflitos, como no caso do próprio Sócrates. É quando os curadores e legisladores que contribuíram com grandes quantidades de dinheiro e tempo para construir a sede da universidade se opõem às aulas ou pronunciamentos dos professores. Passam então a pressionar a administração, ameaçando cortar as verbas se os professores não disserem o que eles querem ouvir. Coisas como essas também acontecem.

Em tais situações, os verdadeiros sacerdotes devem agir como se nem tivessem ouvido as ameaças. Seu objetivo principal nunca é servir à comunidade, acima de tudo. Seu objetivo principal é servir, através da razão, à busca da verdade.”

[...]

Excertos. Capítulo 13, Zen e a arte da manutenção de motocicletas, Robert M. Pirsig.

One of the bikes out of ZAMM and a GS.

Zen Bike

1. “Waiting for Godot” by Samuel Beckett. I know, it seems so pretentious, but it is my favorite. It is my favorite favorite. Beckett, standing on the pier at Dún Laoghaire with his epiphany is one of the reasons I get excited whenever I’m alone on the waterfront before a storm.
2. “The Yale Shakespeare Complete Works” by William Shakespeare. It’s Gospel for the whole cannon of Western theater that proceeds it. It’s a feat of genius and a treasure of humanity. I specify Yale because that was the set of books bequeathed to me by my friend and mentor Dr.  Walter Ray Stump upon his retirement. The Riverside might be better for essays, but nothing matches the emotional attachment I have for this set.
3. “Snow” by Orhan Pamuk. To quote The History Boys: “the best moments in reading are when you come across something—a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things—which you had thought special and particular to you. Now here it is, set down by someone else, someone you have never met, even someone who is long dead. And it is if a hand has come out and taken yours.” I cried for both Ka and myself at the end of this book.
4. “The Sun Also Rises” by Ernest Hemmingway. My first Hemmingway. I swing wildly between wishing myself to be Jake Barnes and being glad that I’m not.
5. “Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair” by Pablo Neruda. I think that reading this along with “Kissing in Manhattan” in high school has changed the way I think about romance a lot more than I realize.
6. “Zen in the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” by Robert Pirsig. Value and ethics all explained in a relaxing, practical, format that took me two years to read between putting down and picking up.
7. “The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke”  by Rainier Maria Rilke trans. Stephen Mitchell. When all else fails, return to Rilke. Mitchell’s translations are the best I’ve liked so far.
8. “Kissing in Manhattan” by David Schickler. I love finding people who have read this.
9. “The Giver” by Lois Lowry. One cannot live in a colorless world. I remember this being the first book I read that filled me with a despair and shook me out of my comfort zone as a young child. Jacob was the first protagonist I identified with on an extremely personal level.
10. “Jurassic Park” by Michael Crichton. Come on, it had to make the list. It just had too. I read this book in fifth grade and didn’t understand half of it, and have since read it twice more. This book (and the subsequent movie) are the reasons why I spent most of my afternoons as a child pretending to be a pygmy Tyrannosaurus.

Part 1 of a 7-Part Series on Spirituality, Self-Image and World Religions

A shelf in our hall closet decided to fall down yesterday – for no reason in particular. No new weight or shifted materials. It was just the metal shelf bracket’s time to die.

Meanwhile, our fifteen-year-old freezer had a drainage hose clogged last month, and ice kept stacking up on the floor of the freezer. (I fixed it myself, with much grunting and swearing, by putting much frozen food out on the 23-degree porch outside, thawing and washing the fridge/freezer, and canceling some other plans for a fun activity as a family.) Oh, here’s a bad one: our four-year-old digital video camera –a fairly expensive one that does not even get used much– has nevertheless been “in the shop” twice since we bought it, and now needs to go back again. It’s a lemon, even though the name on it says Canon. In Wisconsin at the cottage, I put in a new sump pump when the old one stopped working back in the fall. And at work this month, I’ve found that the one copier all faculty must use is famously temperamental, and can put me in a real bind if it decides to have a bad day.

We’ve all heard it before. Life is 95% maintenance, and only 5% production… or something like that. But it still bears repeating, because we tend to forget such basic wisdom. Things get messed up. “The best-laid plans, etc etc”…. “Everything Is Broken“, sang Bob Dylan in 1989. He is one of the great Wise Men, the true shamans, of our times.

[ BTW, in case you are wondering: no, I do not have a motorcycle, neither functional nor broken. Nor have I read more than the first chapter or so of that famous 1974 book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, though I did not have a big philosophical problem with what I read. Robert Pirsig's catchy title, and motorcycles breaking down, and the role of religion and philosophy in body and spirit "maintenance", are the main reasons I chose the above title. It was just meant to catch your eye. (Is that so wrong?) ]

So… Maintenance. It’s a pain in the ass. Yet we humans, mostly because we want to just relax and enjoy the fruits of our civilization, trend toward consistent and toxic denial of  this reality: the fundamental reality being that life is hard. And that things fall apart. And that we make mistakes. And that we all die in the end.

And that sin is real, to put a Christian theological spin on it.

Victory over sin, over chaos, is possible. Yes. Life is also beautiful. Yes. God is there. Absolutely. But specific victories are not always certain, and they are almost never permanent, requiring no maintenance whatsover by God or Man. No. Instead, victory, joy, and the “peace that surpasseth understanding” (Phil 4:7) requires relaxed but vigilant attention, by God first and always, but also by us as we act in, or live in, God’s grace.

If we’re over the age of reason  (which is seven, according to ancient Roman Catholic conceptions of human development), then to say that life is hard is probably to state the obvious. We know from an early age to expect that the system will break down, somewhere. We have seen it happen: at school when someone does not take turns but is not called on their misbehavior, at playtime when the $.39 plastic Chinese-made toy suddenly breaks under normal use, or at home when we destroy something or disobey our parents, despite full awareness of the rule that we chose to break. We can’t help ourselves sometimes. “The devil made me do it”, people sometimes used to say, half-jokingly.

So we cannot depend completely on any human system, nor can we depend on ourselves or our fellow travelers completely. Mistakes will be made. Accidents happen. Into each life a little rain must fall. (Ah shaddup, you cliche-monger…) This dawning realization can lead to anxiety, insecurity, maybe even a mild existential dread.

I’m seeing that anxiety dawning for the first time lately in my son, who’s six and a half. Like him, most humans intuitively come to know early on that the seeds of death (and birth) are present in each life, in each day, if one has the guts to notice them. A mild smell of decay or mold can remind you. A spiderweb in the corner of the room (the “hunter” in our midst). Stubbing your toe when rushing out the door too fast, i.e. not being present to yourself in the present moment, but instead running either toward or away from death in some vague, unconscious way.

This self-awareness, and our consciousness of mortality, are the main phenomena that separate us from the animal kingdom. (That and language. And Twinkies.)

Yet that awareness of our mortality, of the brokenness and limitations woven into each life, is also the reason for friendship, ministry, family and even compassionate selflessness itself. We bear it all, together. We can give, and live, unconditionally. Mortality and community are also reasons for a greater appreciation of each moment. We stop taking others, ourselves, God, and life itself for granted. We stop needing reality to be something it is not.

With what Zen Buddhists and 12-Step programs call practice (Christians call it discipline, and above I’m calling it “maintenance”), we can stay mindful that, by God’s grace alone, peace and fellowship and joy and fullness of life actually do attain the upper hand quite often, despite all that brokenness we discussed above. That mindfulness and gratitude – the increasing appreciation for the Gift of Creation – is actually one of the main points of connection Christianity has with Buddhism and Islamic Sufism, as alternate views of life. (I’m tempted to call them competing views… but that’s a whole other road to go down. Another day, perhaps.)

I’m going through some serious stuff these days, as you might guess from the above references. Battling some addictive parts of my own malformed brain, or soul, or wherever one wants to peg the source of addictions. Mostly I’m doing okay, but I’ll be taking the next few days up here on the blog to continue sorting it out, maybe looking for help from my readers. For fellowship happens on the internet these days, too, doesn’t it?  We work the mine together, finding new ways to engage with this sticky problem of maintenance, growth, and recovery of a peaceful, secure self-image and a healthier relationship with others.

So put that motorcylce helmet on, and hop up behind me. It’s gonna be a winding, pothole-filled road for a few days.

Barcelona, London, the boat to Rosslare
Limerick, Ennis, West Clare
The people, the laughs, the pints, the adventure
Strangers whose paths briefly cross
All coming and going on their separate ways
Just as the waters of the river Fergus
Earlier rained down in a hale of warm drops
On an old man in his green fields
Working, working, working
Cold red hands
Opening gates, shutting gates
Wellies, cap and jacket
Held together by bailing twine knots

Two thousand five hundred years ago
And that oldest wandering Dharma bum of them all
Lao Tzu, said:
“A thousand mile journey
Starts with the first step”
And its for that reason
Ive journeyed these last two near sleepless
Funny and memorable days
To be here now
Anseo anois
To give my gifts of Hope
And words of thanks
To two I love dearly:
Father Finbarr and little sis G
As they take their own
New first courageous
And perhaps even a little frightening first step
Each on their own new journey
On this beautiful rock Gaia
As she takes her own journey
That three hundred and sixty five and
A quarter day revolution
Around her firey brother
In that most strangest and most beautiful
Journey of them all:
Lila
The infinite cycle of kalpa
Bang, Out, Crunch, In,
Bang, Out, Crunch, In,
Bang, Out, Crunch, In,

All on their own journeys
All coming and going
All with their own destinations
Like the Tao,
All flowing

But all in the safe and loving arms
Of this simple miracle
This beautiful and funny existence
And knowing that
We smile.

(Written @ Lahinch, August, Bank holiday weekend 2007)

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

In the car during my commute to work, I’ve been listening to one of my favorite books (on CD), Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert M. Pirsig. Pirsig, who is arguably the world’s most-read, living philosopher argues through a masterpiece of logic and narrative the following:

1) Quality is real

2) We know what Quality is; not from any cognitive, dualistic, subject-object type of knowing, but rather from pre-cognitive knowing.

3) It is natural to put Quality into the things that we do….it is reality (all that Zen stuff).

He says these things in a very accessible way (especially in recorded form) that makes these concepts very personal and accessible. Whether you agree with everything he says or not is immaterial…they are worth thinking about and considering.

Anyway, I’m alone, tired, over-seas…..and I need to get up to go to the airport super- early. I’ll write more about this soon. It is excellent for any and all to read….especially those who must consider Quality as a concept. Jeeze, I’m jetlagged. Good night all,

~TJK

Robert Pirsig avec son fils Chris et la motocyclette en question.

Robert Maynard Pirsig (né en 1928) est célèbre pour son livre Zen or the art of Motorcycle Maintenance: an inquiry into values (1974), publié en France sous le titre Le traité du zen et de l’entretien des motocyclettes dans une traduction réputée médiocre (j’ai vérifié, c’est curieusement vrai). La qualité et le succès de ce premier livre a incité la fondation Guggenheim à lui accorder une bourse pour l’écriture d’une suite, ce sera Lila: an inquiry into morals, publié aux États-Unis en 1991 (jamais publié en français). Ce sont ses deux seuls livres à ce jour.

Comme pour Zen, la forme empruntée est celle d’une réflexion philosophique qui articule un regard sur notre façon de concevoir la réalité au récit d’évènements auto-biographiques. Il rencontre ainsi une femme, dont le prénom ne vous surprendra pas, et ils font un bout de chemin ensemble en voilier, le long de la rivière Hudson. Leur aventure ne sera pas aussi tranquille ni aussi longue que le fleuve, et l’instabilité psychique de cette femme, faisant écho à la sienne propre qu’il évoquait dans Zen, sera le catalyseur de la conception d’une Métaphysique de la qualité, familière en Extrême-Orient et beaucoup moins en Occident.

J’ai découvert Lila tout à fait par hasard, en voyage, en 1996. J’étais avidement en quête de lecture, et comme souvent quand on voyage, il n’y avait dans cette bouquinerie d’occasion qu’un choix de livres en anglais. Bonne pioche. La créativité et le foisonnement de ses idées méritent le détour.

(-_-)

• Robert Pirsig on Wikipedia
• Lila: an inquiry into morals on Wikipedia
• Metaphysics of quality on Wikipedia
• Traité du zen et de l’entretien des motocyclettes sur Wikipédia

[En annexe la vidéo d'un texte de R. Pirsig qui défile sur une chanson de Bob Dylan]