Archive for December, 2006

Fish out of water

Oh God! That’s what I was saying between bouts of vomiting throughout the night on Christmas. It was a brutal end to a difficult trip home. I felt out of sorts from the get-go, untethered from the web of routines that keeps me grounded. Sometimes that web can feel unbearably constricting. Sometimes it’s cozy and comforting.

Despite feeling like a corpse, I managed to make the drive from my parents’ house to my father-in-law’s place in New Jersey. My wife and I will be visiting with her Dad for a couple of days before returning to Kentucky. Presently I’m sitting in front of my lap-top, sipping some coffee, and checking out what’s been happening online these past few days. This reflective piece from Ze Frank hit home (as it did for my buddy Sean):

Then I read the latest from Ken Wilber, in which he describes the horrific brush with death he’s endured these past few weeks. It seems Wilber not only managed to survive the ordeal, but he also found a way to turn it into an edifying and inspirational experience. This guy is one extraordinary human being and I admire him a great deal, despite the many critical points I’ve made lately. Thinking about how poorly I handled being sick (I was on the verge of praying for death at one point), I am reminded of how much further I have to go in terms of developing my capacity for equanimity in the face of adversity. Shit, I can’t even visit my family without feeling and acting like a fish out of water.

But hey, today I’ll take a little comfort, like how I feel when I look over at my wife as we both “work” on our respective computers:

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Old Corduroys

This always happens when I pack for a trip. I pack up all the clothes I usually wear, my favorite stuff, and I don’t want to dirty any A-list outfits, so the day before the trip I wear some stuff that’s been buried in the drawer for months. Like right now I have on my old grey corduroys and band T-shirt, an ensemble that hasn’t seen the light of day all year. And that’s just it. It’s the novelty factor, I guess. Just because I haven’t worn this stuff in ages, it suddenly stands out, it looks cool, it has me second-guessing my suitcase priorities. I’ll probably end up wearing these corduroys all week and, as usual, leave untouched ninety percent of everything I pack in my suitcase. I know this, and yet I go through the motions as usual. It’s a familiar pattern, but it doesn’t feel constricting to me. It’s comforting in a way. It’s fun. And that’s a relief, to observe me being me, with all my quirks and foibles, and for that to make me smile instead of cringe.

Familiar circles

One more day of work and I’m off to New York to visit with family. I sorely need a break from the incessant drama of the Adolescent Chemical Dependency Unit. I’m getting burned out big-time, which has me thinking in familiar circles. In the past, whenever I get overwhelmed and feel trapped in a dysfunctional thought-maze, I typically wear myself out within a few weeks, eventually falling back into the simple realizations I seem to forget again and again.

I spoke to my father on the phone for a while this afternoon. Just hearing his voice has a profound effect on me, reviving old memories and stirring familiar emotions. I’ve been living far, far away from my hometown for many years now and I’ve not had the slightest inkling to close the distance until recently. Maybe it’s my parents getting older, or my nephews growing up too fast. I don’t know. I just feel the need to be closer.

Truthfully, I don’t even understand why I’ve chosen to remain so far away for so long. If you pressed me on it, I’d probably give you some song and dance about finding my own way in the world, or breaking my conditioning by seeking out different perspectives. But I don’t really know. There’s a level of being I can only seem to tap via intuition, and this internal homing gauge is somewhere on that level. Something is shifting inside me and I’m not sure how it’s all going to play out. We shall see.

Free-fall

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Here I am. Again. Hoping these circles are part of a spiral. Hoping I’m not making the same mistakes, missing the same points, forgetting the same simple truths. I don’t know. I never know. Ever onward! Chasing the cursor, rearranging letters and words like a toddler stacking blocks. Knocking it all down is the exciting part, the part that gets the juices flowing. The only way to free-fall is to jump, or get pushed. What matters is that there’s nothing to stand on anymore, no tether, nothing to catch me but the jagged earth.

Itchy fingers

Everybody’s talking about God! How could there be so much buzz over someone who doesn’t exist?

Coolmel had this to say while I was napping, and I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut (fingers motionless?) about this stuff:

What up C?

I threw in my two cents before I noticed your response over here. I just don’t think you can dismiss Harris with a simple developmental-levels argument. I’ve read/listened to/watched several Harris performances in the past few months, and I think he is very clear about which “level of God” he’s arguing against. Harris is repeatedly trying to point out what many of us are refusing to believe might be true–that a huge percentage of the world populace, including many in positions of considerable power and influence, believe that a particular book (i.e. the Bible or the Koran) is the absolute word of God, a God thought of as the omniscient creator of the universe. If this level of religious belief is really as widespread as Harris suggests, then we are all in deep shit, because such beliefs have dangerous implications in today’s world. That there are deeper, more developed conceptions of God and religions is beside the point. Changing “levels” or definitions in mid-debate (like Prager does) is dodging the issue. Maybe Sam is exaggerating or giving us trumped up statistics on just how many Americans believe Jesus is coming back soon to kick ass and take names. But if he’s even in the ballpark on his numbers, we should be very concerned indeed. The deeper articulations of our religious impulses have a place in the discussion, of course, when we are talking about how best to address the problem, but not as subterfuge used to keep us from recognizing it.

The great divide

I am both fascinated and disturbed to continually discover how fruitless even highly rational dialogue can be. People see what they want to see, hear what they want to hear, and generally interpret experiences through whatever perceptual filter they were fitted with by the age of twelve. By no means do I exclude myself here. When I read through the Harris-Prager dialogue, it struck me as so one-sided as to cause me to feel slightly embarrassed for Prager. It seemed to me that Harris not only deftly handled every substantial argument Prager came up, but he made several points which Prager dodged, ignored, or misunderstood. Harris just mopped the floor with Prager. End of story. But wait, hold the presses! It seems some pretty intelligent people (including Matthew Dallman) saw things rather differently:

“[W]henever I read or hear ‘God’, I translate it as something like, ‘that mysterious force of human interaction’. The reason people worship this force is that it is so elusive of intellectual grasp, yet it tantalizes when we are seemingly least prepared to grasp it. Depersonalizing this force into ‘God’ ‘gods’ or the like is a way to worship something more tangible. But, at least as far as Christianity goes, an enormous part of the worship is that towards spirit. Or, put another way — the worship is of a particular kind of state of being, everyday in one’s life. Harris argues of one kind of ’state of being’; Prager another. Seeing this is important, for clarity.

The other thing I wonder about is the sources of moral authority. Inevitably, these form a kind of dogma in Christianity. But, honestly, so what? Dogma means ’seems right’. Moral codes based on the notion that following them ’seems right’ strike me as perfectly acceptable. And, interestingly, when Harris attempts to create his own ‘religion’, what does it use for its tenets but dogma? Its use, like religion, is inescapable for humans.”

That Matthew and I could view the debate so differently interests me as much as the debate itself.

It would be pointless for me to rehash the Harris-Prager dialogue in detail. If Harris’s crystal clear thinking didn’t move you, then my muddled mind is unlikely to enlighten anyone. Yet, I can’t resist making a few points. First, if there is to be any clarity whatsoever in a discussion about God, we must come to an agreement as to what we’re discussing. Clearly, Harris is arguing against a fundamentalist or literalist notion of God as being the author of certain holy books, a notion which can and does lead to consequential beliefs about life and about the world. He’s not talking about God as a transpersonal principle or a label for all that is mysterious, wonderful and ineffable in the universe. There’s nothing unreasonable or dogmatic per se in acknowledging a transpersonal level of reality. But believing either the Bible or the Koran is the perfect, infallible word of the omniscient creator of the universe, and thus should be followed to the letter (according to your own or some authority’s interpretation),–this belief is highly unreasonable and dogmatic. And changing the use of the term “dogmatic” seems to muddy the discussion rather than clarify. Harris eschews dogma because beliefs based on unassailable principles are conversation killers. Dogma is not open for discussion or to revision. This has nothing to do with dogma as something that “seems right.”

If it’s true that something like half of the American populace believes Jesus was literally born of a virgin and is coming back soon to usher us all to heaven or hell, then reasonable people everywhere should be very alarmed. This has nothing to do with deeper, non-literal interpretations of scripture, nor does it have to do with broader definitions of God. If it’s true, then it means something like half of us (you choose which half!) are out of our fucking minds.

I know, I know… I dropped the “F-Bomb,” betraying the fact that I too must be an “angry atheist.” Well, first of all, I don’t deny being triggered (for personal reasons) by certain notions of “God,” as I discussed in a previous post. Secondly, if the prospect (or perhaps present reality) of a mass, cultural psychosis doesn’t make you say “Fuck!”, then what will? Finally, I have to admit that Prager really ruffled my feathers with this shot at non-believers:

“And secular Europe, like secular America, doesn’t even reproduce itself. Secularism either makes people too selfish to have more than one child and/or shatters any belief in sustaining one’s society and culture.”

When I read that, my ears slammed closed. I would expect the antagonistic rhetoric of Harris and Dawkins to have a similar effect on the ears of the faithful.

And so here we are, with our ears slammed shut, shouting past one another, the divide ever widening.

Why won’t God heal amputees?

Sam Harris is popping up everywhere these days, and he’s putting forth some very challenging arguments advocating for saner discourse in matters of faith and religion. This makes a lot of sense to me:

“The point is not that all religious people are bad; it is not that all bad things are done in the name of religion; and it is not that scientists are never bad, or wrong, or self-deceived. The point is this: intellectual honesty is better (more enlightened, more useful, less dangerous, more in touch with reality, etc. ) than dogmatism. The degree to which science is committed to the former, and religion to the latter remains one of the most salient and appalling disparities to be found in human discourse.”

I remember being in high school and getting into these kinds of debates with religious-minded people on a regular basis. Once, I invited a Jehovah’s Witness into my living room and assailed him with challenging questions for a half-hour. He left me with a smile and a copy of “The Watchtower” as I sat there shaking my head, convinced the guy was a complete moron.

I grew up with a lot of anger toward the notion of a loving God who could intervene in human affairs. My younger brother Jimmy was profoundly disabled by an allergic reaction to the pertussis vaccine. I simply wouldn’t stand for any talk of a fair and just Lord of Lords. “Fuck God!” was often heard coming from my lips. Armed with rage and reason, I would attack any belief system that didn’t account for my brother’s condition to my satisfaction. Thinking about it now, I can see how the struggle to make sense of Jimmy’s situation led to my interest in both psychology and spirituality. Hmmm… Maybe that was all part of God’s plan? NOT!!!

Skimming through a Harris article, I saw a reference to a website dedicated to answering the question: Why won’t God heal amputees? Put that question on a T-shirt back in 1986, and I would’ve owned one in every color. Not that I’m trying to minimize the basic arguments by characterizing them as adolescent. As far as Harris goes, I agree with every argument I heard so far. It’s just that there’s so much further to go.

I am alive

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Tonight’s musical meditation, dedicated to Ken Wilber. Be well, brother.

I am alive.mp3
The sun drops out of sight
And I am the night
Cool air on my skin
And I am the wind
I am the wind
I am the wind

Nothing’s quite as it seems
And I am the dream
Floating out on the lake
And I am awake
I am awake
I am awake

Holding on to the day
‘Cause I am afraid
The sun one day will die
But I am alive
I am alive
I am alive

Bad vibes

I’ve been silent lately. Work has been difficult, as the kids on the Adolescent Chemical Dependency Unit have been particularly intractable. Stress at work inevitably leads to thoughts of changing course: “Why am I doing this? What do I really want to do with my life?” The extra hours on the job also keep me from addressing the always growing “To do” list on the dining room table. Wedding photos still not gone through. Thank yous not sent out. Holiday shopping not even thought about. Ugh.

It’s snowing right now, and my wife is not sure she wants to brave the elements and run our errands today. I’m just stuck, spinning in circles–mentally, physically, spiritually. I wanted to blog several times over these last few days. The Sam Harris-Dennis Prager debate about atheism was pretty interesting (I thought Harris wiped the floor with Prager). Then Prager, who I never heard of before this week, caused a stir over a Minnesota Congressman’s refusal to swear his oath on the Bible. I had lots to say about that one, but decided to spend my free hour flipping between Leno and Letterman.

Then I found myself rankled by the in-group dynamics and circular arguments that elevate certain blogs (and certain people, artists, bands, organizations) to “integral” status based on little more than a shared jargon and common interest in Ken Wilber. I was ready to launch into a long rant about that one, but then I heard that Wilber is in serious condition in a Denver hospital. Suddenly, I don’t feel like bitching anymore.

Bad vibes all around. I’ll take a few deep breaths, tackle one or two things on the to-do list, and then rock out on the guitar for a while. At some point, clarity will come knocking again. Hopefully, I’ll be able to hear it over the amplifier.

Reply from Marianthi

The following is a reply to my last post, from a lovely woman who’s been active on the integral forums and in life for a long while:

Bob my friend,

Decline, decay and resignation you say. I rise to their defence.

Decline: can be wonderful when it serves diminished ambitions cause then you can see how pointless most of them were.

Decay: of body, mind, possessions can be amusing when not extreme and taken as part of being human.

Resignation: can be priceless when she becomes the delightful acceptance that THIS (whatever is happening) is IT (life in full) and we get to chew the darned carrot of every moment, juice dripping down our jaws.

The defence rests. Munch,munch.

Marianthi.

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