Laziness or Wisdom
"It is only when we realize that life is taking us nowhere that it begins to have meaning."
Peter Dimianovich Ouspensky
A technique used in mystical development is called self-observation, whereby an individual watches himself and the world without judgement or interference. He is a detached participant free from the uneasiness of personal absorption.
It reminds of the Taoist wu wei. This approach is one of inaction allowing events to take their natural course. The world is right as is.
I've experienced this phenomenon at times when all I see is patterns, colors, shapes, and things like that. Of course, these moments are free of threat, but threats can be both real and imagined. The moments of pure observation require no action. So does freedom precede these moments or is it a result? How much action is necessary in general? Does it matter?
Subsequently, I got to wondering if detached observation is laziness and an unwillingness to change situations, or if it's wisdom in understanding that things change themselves with or without human interference. It is possible that end results are the same any way it goes?
Of course, people are wired to correct and repair what is faulty and broken. This requires active judgement when it comes to more obtuse circumstances. It also relies on other people's judgement which can be risky in terms of one's own life. Collective correction might benefit from some self-observation. Then there is the possibility that the world takes care of itself and human diddling is just an exercise of some kind. Something to do.
Full detached observation is probably impossible since the on-off switch that controls imagination is hard to locate. But maybe a certain amount of laziness does lead to wisdom.
Peter Dimianovich Ouspensky
A technique used in mystical development is called self-observation, whereby an individual watches himself and the world without judgement or interference. He is a detached participant free from the uneasiness of personal absorption.
It reminds of the Taoist wu wei. This approach is one of inaction allowing events to take their natural course. The world is right as is.
I've experienced this phenomenon at times when all I see is patterns, colors, shapes, and things like that. Of course, these moments are free of threat, but threats can be both real and imagined. The moments of pure observation require no action. So does freedom precede these moments or is it a result? How much action is necessary in general? Does it matter?
Subsequently, I got to wondering if detached observation is laziness and an unwillingness to change situations, or if it's wisdom in understanding that things change themselves with or without human interference. It is possible that end results are the same any way it goes?
Of course, people are wired to correct and repair what is faulty and broken. This requires active judgement when it comes to more obtuse circumstances. It also relies on other people's judgement which can be risky in terms of one's own life. Collective correction might benefit from some self-observation. Then there is the possibility that the world takes care of itself and human diddling is just an exercise of some kind. Something to do.
Full detached observation is probably impossible since the on-off switch that controls imagination is hard to locate. But maybe a certain amount of laziness does lead to wisdom.
posted by jm at 2:00 PM
41 Comments:
Willingness
Surrender.
I know not.
Willingness. Sounds good.
Just watched the interview between Dave & Gad.
Great stuff! Thanks.
We are in his tribe of Truth.
How can you not love Gad? A brilliant mind and honey badger who uses high falutin words with bozos in same sentence.
Impossible not to love Gad. He's so animated. A funster. Warm hearted. Full of good ideas. A good friend.
I love those words. High falutin and bozos in same sentence.
Tribe of Truth. I'm not one to join up, but in this case I will.
Gad named his tribe. Given his nature the tethers must be very loose...we'll be okay.
Whenever I listen to him I find myself smiling, enjoying the ride.
You are right about tethers. Saturn in Aquarius. Libra Sun.
Very enjoyable ride. There's a lilt to his voice that gets me every time. His use of satire totally amuses me. The urge to humor others genuinely is a great one, and his seriousness is always there in balance. So I listen "willingly." Enthusiastically, as it were. And is. And will be.
Yep. Gad the Saad.
Making new friends together. My heart flutters.
"It reminds of the Taoist Wu Wei. This approach is one of inaction allowing events to take their natural course. The world is right as is."
Wu wei is about the use of power. Interestingly, wu wei has two very different meanings in the ancient literature from 2400+ years ago.
A) An "attitude of non-action" driven by a lack of interest/desire to participate in human affairs.
B) A technique to gain enhanced control of human affairs.
Notion A represents disinterest, or possibly defensive avoidance, which may or may not be in alignment with the purpose or overall expression of the individual. The value placed on that behavior is the individual's, whose judgment can change. Its value may depend on why one is doing it, on situational elements. From a modern perspective, if it's a permanent state then it could possibly become rigid and maladaptive.
Notion B was developed further as Taoists became interested in the exercise of power in government. It is neither a retreat nor a charge, but purposeful and judicious interaction.
It implies that the alternative to withdrawal from the complexity of human life is to develop more adeptness in the use of one's power. Then, the rich complexity of humanity is no longer overly challenging, but a field of creative expression for the adept.
But what connects the two contrasting meanings of wu wei?
Well, the original sense of wu wei is probably closer to that of self-development to reach one's full potential, and therefore easing one's way in life. It does suggest a reflective, insightful centeredness. We see an example of this given by Confucius who spoke of a wise ruler, not a disengaged hermit. The divine king's mystical power beneficially, because of his virtue, regulated all within his domain.
There is an aspect of what Westerners call grace in that it is not the result of conscious striving but may be developed through the confluence of virtuous practice which connects one to the beneficient rewards given by Heaven to the receptive. Thus, rather than closure, qualities of active receptivity and responsiveness are important.
Self development and ease. Good approach.
I like Taoism. It's the "okay" philosophy. From what I understand, when the Taoists were in favor with the government they enjoyed it, and when they weren't that was okay too. They enjoyed themselves elsewhere.
In my experience, the most adept are in tune with events and people around them, sometimes to the point of telepathy. All action is part of larger action, and they understand themselves as part of a greater movement of things. They are a part of the world acting on itself, and knowingly so.
The adept do choose effective over ineffective actions. Some make necessary things much easier to manage. There is a time to be still and a time to move. Like in certain evolved martial arts informed by taoism, they will move at the opportune time to fulfill a purpose or to reach a goal. Because it is tasked so, their awareness develops a quality of openness.
I agree with all you said, especially "all action is part of a larger action."
The thing I like most about Taoism is the view that things are right the way they are. Or they just are what they are. I think that's the larger action. I call it the sequence and Taoists seem to adjust to as well as contribute to the sequence, not forcibly change it. There's a reverence in this which appeals to me. It's spiritual suppleness.
Yes. :-) "Spiritual suppleness" is a good term.
Reality is, and reality is exploring itself. That knowledge by itself doesn't require any particular individual action, any particular choice, of course. There is a range of options. But an individual's inaction is a kind of action, just as refusing to choose is also a choice. To exist is to act in some fashion, however subtly.
Another way that I can personally see it is that humans are complex waves within larger fields of energy.
The conscious mind is not like a bicyclist riding a bicycle and controlling the movement.
It is more like a surfer riding a surfboard being carried by a wave traveling across the surface of the ocean.
For example, humans wake and sleep cyclically. Going without sleep too long results in physical death. And in every moment, the conscious mind is not only like a rider, but it is also like the crest of a wave, the molecules of which are constantly rising, cresting, and plummeting.
When I examined the conscious mind's relationship to the body and the reality that seemingly encloses it, there was a perception of it that feels like an energy or force passing through the structure of the body (which is itself formed of energy). The internal aspect, formerly aware of internal body things, becomes outer awareness and looks out through the physical eyes, becomes aware of outer things. The outer awareness falls back and becomes inner awareness. There is a kind of flow or circuit, like yin and yang in the taiji symbol, that keeps it all operational. The domains of knowing seem separate unless one can find a mental, perhaps Janusian, vantage point that includes both heads, where one becomes more directly aware of one's own process. I am not speaking of intellectual comprehension but of a more direct awareness; it would be quite a trick for most people, since our normal sensory perceptions are already processed and filtered before they reach conscious awareness. One can easily extend this idea to expanded concepts of reincarnation and parallel lives, the multiplication of selves across time, space and frequency domains of reality.
From that vantage point, I felt a startling sense that when I moved through the world, the world moved around me. Quite funny if said aloud but motion, as physicists understand it, is not in reference to some abstract system of absolute coordinates which do not exist. Motion is relative, about change in relationship. As a thought experiment, we can imagine a universe containing only a single spinning object; such an almost featureless universe could not be said to contain any physical evidence of movement at all. I think that it can be said that the psychological motion of our universe depends upon all of us in some sense. I suspect there are many ways, recognized and unrecognized, in which the humblest contribute vitally to it.
The happy surfer is coordinating his internal systems to move in harmony with the external world. He has a kind of mastery of his element, and maximally enjoys the immediacy of the moment in the ever-unfolding present. Our innocent surfer is training himself to fully experience the bright moments of life, wherever and whenever they happen. But his mastery and dynamic (not static) balance does not imply any kind of simplistic control or dominance of the ocean or its molecules. He is, in a sense, participating in a dance with them.
From another perspective, forces intersect to form the human individual, the human is an expression of those forces, and then the human also expresses force and makes its stamp on reality. The expressed force continues beyond the human that sent it out into the world, and develops its own unique course. The expression could be physical children or art, dreams, mental thought forms which help shape cultures, and so on. Like our surfer, we are training ourselves, feeling the results of our actions and learning from experience.
The point I think I'm at is like wave particle duality. Being able to hold multiple seemingly contradictory perspectives simultaneously because to the best of knowledge both are true... or maybe all are true or none but it's the best we've got. Finding the way then now seems to me not like finding any particular way, but many ways overlaid on top of each other... each coexisting. My mind seems to have become duller in some ways than in years past. It's more penetrating but not as sharp as when I was younger. It's become a different kind of instrument than it used to be.
What a thought. The mind becoming a different instrument than it used to be.
I love the wave particle duality and the idea that all perspectives are true or none of them are. I go along with that as I've come to realize that it doesn't matter. Nothing is that important. I might make it that way for dramatic sensation, but it does what it does. I find a way spontaneously. I feel inklings of leaving the earth plane in my coming old age, so my instrument is wandering off into who knows where. It looks like there might be an interesting transitory state of mind in very old age.
"Finding the way then now seems to me not like finding any particular way, but many ways overlaid on top of each other... each coexisting." Exactly m.p.k. All are true or none are, as you wisely say. People seek grand solutions but I don't think they're there. One can pick and choose for the moment.
Leave the battles to the young, I say. It is their destiny to overthrow the previous generation one way or another, and then their doom to become it.
Saturn (Cronus) was once the boldest son who replaced Uranus his rejecting father. Legend has it that Saturn's rule was called the Golden Age because people didn't need laws or rules, they simply did what was right and immorality was unheard of. Although, I suspect a bit of historical revisionism there. He was in turn overthrown by Jupiter (Zeus).
From their myths, the ancients did not think of such powers as moral virtue. Death was a more frequent visitor (as it still is in raw nature), and they felt themselves far more subject to the vagaries of the Fates. Older astrology was more fatalistic. We relate to astrology in a much different way; we tend to try to use forces instead of appealing to them for divine intervention. It's interesting that modern astrologers look at the astrological patterns and tend to want them to conform to our human notions of moral arc. The moral arc is the collective expression of our nature, and the astrology we know is very much a human-centered frame for talking about human expression and action.
We have lightning rods on our roofs, and use electricity for mundane tasks. The god of fire and smithing, Hephaestus, had his metal automatons, and now I know people who have little wheeled robots cleaning their floors, and their children attend schools having 3D printers for them to produce cross-sectional models of human organs, of molecules and chemical compounds, and to study design, engineering and architectural principles. We are in a changing relationship to nature, and have become like the godlike powers slowly learning manners.
I am thinking of how, as I partake of that part of this fine morning that I call breakfast, despite Saturn's Golden Age being one without extrinsic rules, he being a Titan older than the gods and identified with the then outermost visible planet was associated by astrologers with limits and outer bounds. There is a lot of modern talk about our entering an Aquarian Age, but what happens when a few millenia later, the Aquarian Age gives way to a Saturn-ruled Capricornian one, one wonders. Saturn also (co-)rules Aquarius, so perhaps we can imagine that if automation has long been the order of the day, then maybe many of the laws and rules really will either fall away or be in the background, and many conflicts will fade over the early centuries of the age as management of resources and energy production improve. Like, if people are teleporting to travel, it will be purely a matter of queuing up, and many traffic rules would be a thing of the past. At least, terrestrially speaking. Not sure how exo-commerce works when scaled up.
I know that the various Eastern philosophies influenced each other, actively sharing and debating ideas for many centuries. Mystical communities have gone through their own radical revolutions in how they understand the reality of their lives.
A hard-won insight is not that we should renounce action — many renunciates found themselves further mired in duality, beset by opposites, incurring more karma — but that we should be wary of over-attachment to the results and to particular outcomes. (I could compare it to how the young leave parental control after they are of age.)
To them, fateful events are not extrinsic but caused by the individual. A yoga teacher once which explained the term "inaction in action" (naishkarmya-karnan), about a karma-free way of living, living in alignment with the greater good, minimizing attachments. It was associated with the ideas of the still point of the turning of the world, and being at home in the eternal now. I see the connections to the development of wu wei.
The yogic view underscores the root problems of the oppositional extremes of desire (such as greed) and of aversion, and how their effects chain humans to the karmic wheel. Of course, one might argue that desiring to be rid of desire is problematic if taken to an extreme. I tend to take the view that some imbalance is necessary for movement and development. The wheel of dharma is the skillful movement versus the blundering one.
Over historical time, across traditions and cultures, the evolved mystic's freedom became understood not as freedom from the world — that was found to be another kind of trap — it became understood as freedom in the world. There will always be pros and cons to whatever choice we make, there will continue to be competing goods and political debates, and the winding way is sometimes the straightest path. If we pretend otherwise, then we could be setting ourselves up to feel like a victim of fate. A key insight, we are told, is that we are already at the center of our process.
Now, I have just been puzzling over several online quizzes purporting to tell me what sort of instrument my mind has become. Unsurprisingly, none agree. Thus far, I am either a xylophone, trumpet, saxophone, flute, clarinet, or violin.
I do not think I have played a violin in a couple of centuries, and I'm not prepared to train my hands for the task, but I have been happy to jot down notes, dynamics and articulations on my computer, to let my computer synthesize sounds for me, and then to enjoy the physical manifestation of the abstract notations.
An Hephaestian marvel rewards labor: I create the sound of violins but there is no violin. The sounds fill my rooms when I please, and gradually shift in balance and lighten the atmosphere.
"Leave the battles to the young, I say. It is their destiny to overthrow the previous generation one way or another, and then their doom to become it."
Haha. Fair is fair. That's my view of things. The universe might be neutral. Affairs of Man go from what is perceived as good, moral, and right to the opposite and back again. The Big Undulation. Or my favorite, the Sequence. The body for example. Great design but mishaps abound. It's all in the game.
You can't get rid of desire. Only temper it. Or reroute it.
Attachment, non-attachment, blah, blah, blah. There is no one way. Some people thrive on attachment and all of life's woes. They grow. Blunders, perfections, sickness, health, all a part of a big universal continuum. As m.p.k. suggests, all are right and not right. Everyone gets both. The whole thing miraculously stays in order with or without effort, even if the correctness eludes people's perception, which it undoubtedly does.
I do agree with you that some imbalance is necessary for movement.
"Victim of Fate?" Whos says fate is a perpetrator? A wrong doer? Fate could be an ally. We're all so silly.
It's a big world full of everything. Human nature included. It's impossible to say where the family is headed collectively unless you want to believe some hair brained soothsayer. You can guess for yourself.
"The universe might be neutral."
I think the whole doesn't fit too neatly into human frames. Reality is more than duality, but dualities can seem to form within it. Hot and cold are relative terms, and there are many degrees. Hot for him may be cold for her.
It is like a field of action, but the field is much larger than any one view of it. That might be a clue. We want many angles of sight on it. The development of individuals, individuation, within that field happens because that field exists as it does, and vice versa.
It could be said to have a lean towards development, in many directions. It exists, it changes in many ways, and there is a lot of activity that it comprises. It accumulates time, unfolds potentials, generally seems to move toward complexity. There is development which is made possible by multiplicity. Some paths will seem to dead end while others continue further.
Going back to the opening post,
"Of course, people are wired to correct and repair what is faulty and broken. This requires active judgement when it comes to more obtuse circumstances. It also relies on other people's judgement which can be risky in terms of one's own life. Collective correction might benefit from some self-observation. Then there is the possibility that the world takes care of itself and human diddling is just an exercise of some kind. Something to do."
I suspect that a lot of human questions arise simply because of the particular frame. If we step outside the frame, some of the questions may go away. That would be another layer of Taoism, or of other mystically inclined traditions, above the level of effective action.
Human activity is part of the universe's process, of course, if we understand "universe" to inclusively mean everything that exists.
To take care implies moving away from some paths and towards other paths, but that there is a range of paths isn't something which we need to worry about on the universe's (or multiverse's) behalf.
Humans are a social species that leans toward care of individuals, wherein individuals have some care for others. It becomes a conscious process above the level of instinctive programming, because we have freedom from instincts and can grasp larger contexts. We can say that's a aspect of the universe that humans make possible to fulfill, to become conscious and to appreciate the universe, to be an actor who is not only one of the players and but is among the audience and also participates in collaborative creation. We improvise and discover how things play out.
Often the big questions stand in for smaller questions that people have about their own lives and their own reactions to their experiences. They want a big answer, or a grand narrative, perhaps to alleviate uncertainty. If there is a bigger narrative, it may emerge more from addressing the individual challenges as they come up, and sometimes a change in narrative which they don't see until they can look back.
"There is no one way. Some people thrive on attachment and all of life's woes. They grow."
That's related to individuation, and the drama of it. At a different level of view, they may be developing in some overall way. Then maybe that's not what we're talking about. The problem exists within the window of time while the individual feels they aren't growing in the way that fulfills them or makes them feel like they are thriving, and they just can't accept it. It's an issue of unfulfillment from that individual's point of view, but they just can't figure it out.
But what's wrong according to what? What's okay according to whom? What's growth according to what standard? The individual, at the heart of its experience, must decide whether it is getting enough of what it values, and it makes choices on what to do next.
Extremes of attachment and aversion isn't about having experiences per se but about the idea that outcomes aren't right, perhaps that the universe isn't going according to one's own plan, a kind of rejection or denial of the process and of one's own process. One can experience life and it's heights and depths more fully and deeply, and that also frees people to move on when they want to.
Adepts often speak within their respective cultural contexts, and translation is difficult and distortive. They can tell one how to be more effective and less frustrated in the pursuit of one's goals, because they speak of nature, but maybe they are not really telling people which personal goals to pursue, or personal choices to make, just that there are natural principles that make our existence possible and that we might like to know something about ourselves if we're interested.
One can always raise apparent exceptions to a general rule, but a closer analysis says that underlying principles are not violated even if rules seem to be. A sailor can tack a sailboat to make overall progress in the direction from which the wind comes. He makes knowing use of the wind to move into it, to reach his goal.
Are problems not really problems? Let's call them creative challenges.
""Victim of Fate?" Whos says fate is a perpetrator? A wrong doer? Fate could be an ally. We're all so silly."
Indeed!
"It's a big world full of everything. Human nature included. It's impossible to say where the family is headed collectively unless you want to believe some hair brained soothsayer. You can guess for yourself."
You have to guess, or intuit, for yourself, if you can. Some answers do not come in the form of words. The answers are in the living.
Problems? I call them puzzles.
Yes, "puzzles" is another excellent term, though more intellectual than "challenges." I tend to kinesthetically associate to more physical exertions, like mountain climbing!
People, both in the West and the East, who really get into the question of what's true and false, real and unreal, have explored many-valued logics beyond the familiar two-valued one of true and false. They speak of things that are both true and false, or that are neither true nor false, and so on. It is possible to push values up beyond dozens. Such logics resemble the concept of ineffability. Some can only conclude that we can only speak of things within our experience.
I personally tend to regard questions of what things are, and whether something has a certain property or quality as referring to dependent, relational qualities. The underlying assumption that there is an absolute property or character of something (without reference to anything else) is itself questionable.
So often the solution to a problem is in the reframing of it. And the value or meaning of one's chronological, narrative, experience can't fully escape the non-objective and individual aspect, nor can it fully exist without relation to anything else beyond the individual aspect.
"Finding the way then now seems to me not like finding any particular way, but many ways overlaid on top of each other... each coexisting. My mind seems to have become duller in some ways than in years past. It's more penetrating but not as sharp as when I was younger. It's become a different kind of instrument than it used to be."
That's an interesting observation and journey, m.p.k. Maybe some strengths can intensify as others fade. Do you feel that the changes affect the quality of your experience in other respects?
One wonders how the rapid aging of the U.S. population affects society and its values, and how the narratives and the problem-solving will shift.
Capricorns, some astrologers have claimed, behave old when young and behave young when old. Outside that frame, I suspect that is a quality not of Capricorns alone.
Maybe some people who seem to behave like older souls don't necessarily develop in reverse, but their precocious aspects stick out when they are young (and tasked like all young to learn to navigate the world), and their way of perceiving and thinking still surprises when they are old and expected to be conventionally old-fashioned. And maybe some, in the middle of their lives, play the game, get along and get ahead. The Capricorn stereotype of the suited businessman could reflect that.
I go through different periods where my focus changes, but may revisit previous areas while adding new ones. As more people become involved, I am more frequently called upon, in a sort of consultant role, to tell them how they must do things and pull it all together if the group endeavor is to meet deadlines and succeed at all.
Many years ago, one co-worker who liked to systematize everything tried to explain to me how organizations are structured. He sketched a diagram of the departments in our workplace — technology, graphics, communications, marketing, management, and so on. And then he said, "...And you're sort of smeared all around!" It's because I have mastery of skills not normally found in one person alone, can relate multiple aspects to create a new whole, speak the jargon of the different work groups and communicate within their paradigms. Curiously, my father once said that it was suggested by a mysterious elder, shortly after I was born, that my inner vision had force to project into the outer world of forms. Hmm.
The same co-worker, when new at the job, once tried to explain databases to me. He probably thought I was the resident artist. "I love this stuff!" He declared, and proceeded to draw tables on the marker board to relate and streamline fields of information across records. After a few minutes he paused, looked at me, and I chirped, "Ohhh....You want to normalize the data!" He looked at another corner of the room, smiled at himself, and then reached out his hand for me to slap.
I would say that the balance of my work changed over time. Whereas once we could do almost everything with a handful of people, every thing has scaled up and there are now large teams. There have been more aspects of leadership that entered in or were offered, but I chose not to let that consume most of my time. I am still sometimes embroiled in the thick of things and sometimes not, but that has always been the case. The route I took was atypical. Laziness, wisdom, or both and neither?
It will be interesting to see how my mind changes, if it does, as I proceed. But it must have changed whether I noticed or not. Recently, I commented to an acquaintance (who once demonstrated the curious ability to name aloud the colors that I randomly thought of as quickly as I pictured them) that the audio recordings that she recommended for a taste of expanded consciousness didn't work. Was something wrong with my audio player, or the process of digitization from analog signals? She took a moment and then said, "You've changed [since youth]. You're just there all the time." "Oh", I said, slightly disappointed.
Oh, you incredible people with your fine minds! I have missed this. There are so many rough jewels in the things you wrote above I've been tumbling them over and over in my mind.
"I suspect that a lot of human questions arise simply because of the particular frame. If we step outside the frame, some of the questions may go away. That would be another layer of Taoism, or of other mystically inclined traditions, above the level of effective action."
Profoundly true, yet infuriating... It seems like the more passionately concerned an individual or group is, the less they realize this, especially in an ideological sense.
"Profoundly true, yet infuriating... It seems like the more passionately concerned an individual or group is, the less they realize this, especially in an ideological sense."
Well, I am glad you are getting something out of it! I really do not spend much time thinking about these things; I move through my part of the world and observe well enough to lend a hand.
Maybe we can circle around again to our happy Taoists, and the wu wei that our dear JM brought up. I was thinking about it this morning.
The tai chi players are adept at the zero sum game, but they are both attached and not-attached to it.
They diligently practice, and play their games again and again, and each time the game is played it unfolds uniquely and with surprises — though they aim in the moment to win and avoid surprise — and thus their interest is rewarded by spontaneity and accompanying laughter. Gentle touches of fingers that cause one to lose balance against an opponent, and sword play fun and games where the loser smiles with amusement.
One school of teachers and students call their place of regular sparring practice "The Hall of Happiness". The physical location has moved time and again as the world around them changes, but it is not a physical place to which they cling. They carry it with them in their hearts.
They are not sore losers. The zero sum games are part of a larger non-zero sum game for them. They can be both in the game and not trapped by it. They don't lose their contentment amidst discontentment, nor their discontentment amidst contentment.
The frustration becomes part of the game.
If we become comfortable with mystery in the large, then we more ably handle uncertainties in the small. We can hover and fly above the mass emotionality, even if we sometimes pick a side on some issue or other, like a hawk swooping down on a target. We know there's a larger process. We know we need more than one player to help us define ourselves.
I mentioned earlier the fine imbalances that I believe allows reality to develop and multiply its forms. I have heard that the taoistic and yogic minded refer to what they call "the still point at the center" of the wheel or of the world, a phenomenon that is both within and without.
Physicists continue to puzzle over entropy and the arrow of time. I would compare the motion (or apparent motion) of reality to a phrase that came to mind this morning, "divine discontent." I associate that phrase with creativity. The phrase "creative alchemy" comes to mind when I think about my work world.
My father once said that his favorite pastime is chess because, although each game starts off the same, it unfolds along many possible paths. It's like the singularity that expands to become our universe. Chess did not hold my interest, but I found that if I played with him my mind would glimpse what he saw in it. There is the level of watching subtleties of facial expression, and the direction of gaze. There is another level in which our energies mingle from proximity and from shared focus; we begin to sense one another's way of thinking, perhaps even thoughts.
I read a book by a child prodigy, Josh Waitzkin, who played against grandmasters of chess. He grew up and studied martial arts. His American team went overseas for a championship competition. They had to overcome obstacles, such as being told the wrong time and location to show up to trick them into forfeiting. Or, having the rules applied unfairly, and points deducted one-sidedly.
His team persevered, and Josh doggedly advanced in the competition.
The Chinese were unhappy. They sent in a somewhat older than average player. He was actually one of the teachers, not actually signed up to compete.
Josh began to lose points as he sparred against the teacher. He knew how to hide his intentions from years of playing chess, but it was as if his opponent read his mind. There are those who can be completely receptive and move second, but their hands always arrive in time.
Josh struggled at this new level of play. But he knew that a lot of chess is won in the mind games, the bluffs and so on. So, he adapted. He visualized false intentions to cover his true intentions. As they sparred, the teacher began to hesitate. He seemed more and more confused.
It appeared to the loudly unhappy audience that the American had won the match but, after a bit, the judges ruled against Josh. His Chinese teacher started an angry shouting match with the judges. In the end, the judges grudgingly agreed to call it a tie.
Whatever one calls the attunement, it became a trap for the teacher, once Josh became aware of it and worked it from another level.
I mentioned earlier the artist friend who was able to name aloud random colors as quickly as I pictured them. One time I found I could screen things. She picked up that there was something, but could not quite characterize it though she took long seconds. I mentally held calm and still, like a still, rippleless pool mirroring the sunlit moment without revealing the contents of its depths. I've done that with management at workplaces, too — not necessarily to lie but not to be fearful, which can be mistaken for guilt, when someone is on the war path. It's about where one places one's attention.
One winter, I was invited to attend a sword class. Normally in that school, one has to be a student for many years before one is invited to the advanced courses which are not part of the public curriculum. But that year, a senior teacher said, Why don't we open it up and just see what happens? So they invited students who had completed the public curriculum.
One day, one of the teachers, a white-haired musician, waved me over to him and motioned at me to raise my wooden practice sword. My task, I was told, was to break through his defenses and tap some part of his body (below the neck). So I widened my eyes and comically whimpered in an obviously exaggerated way. He repeated the sound back at me, slightly mockingly. He didn't realize it, but with his reaction, I kind of had him. I knew that I had one chance.
We touched swords and through them connected our movements and our bodies, as we had been told to do. We were supposed to feel each other through the swords, and sense strengths, vulnerabilities and intentions.
In the midst of a move, I broke it abruptly with a twisting motion of my wrist. I instinctively knew that big, broad gestures would be easily spotted and countered. This action was tight, quick, initiated from a small controlling point like the still center within the larger motion. The teacher's attention was naturally focused at the arc of the original move. I basically snatched away my sword from where he was countering (once it was barely past the point where he could recover or attack), and I tapped his other, exposed arm with the side of my sword.
He grinned and, as is the custom, tapped his fingers on the part of his arm that my sword had touched. Then his subsequent swordplay, ahem, gave me no reprieve at all. Couldn't fool him twice!
Perhaps I had gotten as much I needed because after a few weeks I got busier at work and did not pursue the classes further. For me personally, it was a great benefit healthwise, initiating and accelerating changes.
I think that something non-zero, or non-zero sum naturally tends to emerge from the zero. Even on a physical level, virtual particles pop in to existence in empty space; their activity may cause some black holes or black stars to slowly evaporate.
As a youth, I disliked the zero sum beliefs of the business world.
As I moved through a few workpaces, I changed some of their processes in lasting ways. "You make everything better", a manager once said. I could see how employees wasted many hours trying to get work done. They struggled, emotionally, to carry out their responsibilities, and their managements were frustrated. I felt sorry for them, so I would make decisions and initiate radical changes without going through much discussion or approval. It was synergy, synthesis, utility and art.
A few entrepreneurial types tried to rise, above their workplace culture issues, by starting their own companies. But they carried old survival habits, had relapses. Some became my clients.
I worked independently as projects were offered. I structured my time as I pleased, and self-managed my work. They learned to trust that I could hit the mark, and gradually let go of fear, anxiety, distrust and suspicion. Sometimes they would come back and say things ilke, "I told the CEO about our project. He asked an expert and was told that it was impossible!" Or, panicked, "I promised the customer we'd build something in a week!" I smirked. I only took on what I knew could be done, though sometimes it had never been done before.
One climbs the mountain, then one can ski down its slopes. Just be sure to bring your own skis and skills! Later, one doesn't go to the mountain. Let others come to the mountain. At least, that's the way it was for me. One knows the mountain, builds on it, and others come to where you are. The conditions are always changing, but the skier is part of the mountain in spirit. The harmonies within and without are conditioned on each other, on something bigger.
One summer day, a client in the events industry introduced me to several colleagues. As shorthand for our relationship, and for why they should trust my aid, she told them that I had saved her business! It took me aback.
She at first sought golden geese, her "A team", that could lay golden eggs, but the geese always flew away from her touch. "Toxic!" They cried in fear and anger. What she needed more was the creative alchemy to turn her toxic lead into gold. Then, more geese would become golden in the changed environment.
One can develop a Cassandra complex working under stressful conditions. But it was show business. Mishaps and outright failures happen, but the show must go on. The people who remained were survivors. They embraced the challenges of their collaborative enterprise. They knew they could always walk away. They joined together not because they were dominated but because they were free.
There's a next time to do better. That's if everyone knows they have common cause, knows they have to be forgiving. That's especially so if they are going to be demanding. The client's clients must see the potential and accept the growing pains as part of the process.
A nation must care to embody that divine energy in action after action, and not only in passive expressions or emotions.
Action flows naturally from feeling that is free and unobstructed. The one becomes the other.
For big things, the passion has to be big. Big enough to commit to.
Ultimately, bigger than domination games, and thus bigger than oneself. If it doesn't extend further, then when one is gone, it is gone.
In the long run, my troubled client's company prospered. She stopped micromanaging and stepped back from being over-controlling and bullying her way through situations. Steadier hands joined, and commanded respect by giving it. They began to walk their talk. They rose above raw survival and fight-or-flight reactions. They gave incredibly generous healthcare coverage to employees, and offered matching donations to charities promoting education for women and the disadvantaged. They developed wiser processes, and out-competed bigger, better-funded companies in their segment.
I marveled at the mix of panic, haste, over-confidence and slow evolution. The company got to a better place, all the while complaining about the difficulty of persuading their own clients to buy into new ways. For a very long time, I wasn't convinced that they would ever get it. But I remained available and effective without being dragged under by drama. The growing pool of employees nicknamed me "The Force" after the Star Wars concept.
I think that the frustrating aspects of impassioned political processes partly stems from fear. Fear defensively becomes anger and aggression. Then, passions darken instead of enthuse. Then, ideologies become self-deceptive rationalizations.
Polarization rises and falls as stressors do; turning angrily on others seems easier but is more costly than raising the sight. Do we choose to focus more on being part of the problem or more on being part of solutions? Self-responsibility and efficacy of will is, I think, better allied with the latter attitude. People will be more accepting if they know that they are part of a bigger process, and they commit to that, whilst realizing that there may be no simple solutions for long-term issues. For those, you have to be in it for the long haul.
I think that continues to happen, we have people that do that, though it doesn't garner much attention. Most of us have much better lives than our ancestors had. They evolved to be aware of survival threats, and because of that it's so much easier for our attention to suspiciously go to the bad, fearful things, and to overlook the every day goodness that surrounds us and accompanies us. I personally grew up among people who did that. We're causing our own problems if we do that. That's part of my personal interest in the capacity for people to perceive and to think in more ways.
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[Pardon the edit.]
Now, I think I should add a bit about that particular client I described. We did have a few fierce moments in the first few years but we could get past that.
I saw immediately how she and her partners polarized against each other. They were very charming, idealistic people who somehow triggered each other to become more of what they disliked in each other. They eventually parted on very bad terms, but I continued to work with them. Polarization would sometimes recur between her and new people.
Over a year ago, we met again and she talked of the joys and frustrations of establishing relationships with, and then working with, her peers, who were powerful women in their respective fields. She commented on how people often reacted to her strong personality. "People are afraid of me," she confided. I smiled and said, "You have that fearless dominance gene." Her laugh rang out brightly in the art gallery, and she agreed. Then she remarked, "You're not afraid." I shrugged.
"Business has been great but I want a legacy. I'm talking to others working on empowering women [financially] in developing nations." "Excellent! Yes, don't wait for the vested interests and old guard," I replied. She outlined their projects, and we discussed the target date and numbers for the tipping point after which the paradigm shift toward equality would become irreversible.
These are people who have walked through fire many times. But they're not merely tempered swords cutting Gordian knots; they weave a great tapestry. They overcome internal and external obstacles, and they collaborate to actualize their shared vision.
Furthermore, the vision should be a noble one: Transformation is a natural expression of people who center their core above the level of conflict or obstacles. The higher vantage point affords fresh vision and tremendous energy. Then, to higher ground, worthy ground, they raise standards and uplift.
I fled Portland this past fall. As the protests, vandalism, strident rhetoric and gunfire peppered the nights, I was overwhelmed. My fight or flight reaction was on 24/7. I ended up in the hospital after a nervous breakdown one night I mistook it for a heart attack. I had been woken up just prior by the sound of someone squeezing of 30 rounds or so within a few blocks away. There were tear gas warnings on all the telephone polls in my neighborhood. One of my neighbors had a bullet go right into his house passing through several walls. I couldn’t maintain any detached viewpoint. So yes... the imbalance created movement... I sold my house even as the wildfires blanketed the city with the worst air quality in the world, and left, still choking on the fumes.
“One climbs the mountain, then one can ski down its slopes. Just be sure to bring your own skis and skills! Later, one doesn't go to the mountain. Let others come to the mountain. At least, that's the way it was for me. One knows the mountain, builds on it, and others come to where you are. The conditions are always changing, but the skier is part of the mountain in spirit. The harmonies within and without are conditioned on each other, on something bigger.”
I literally moved to a ski town and this is what I’ve been doing almost compulsively since moving. I left the Tai Chi studio behind. It probably at least gave me enough presence of mind to be able get out and then make this recovery.
You are brave m.p.k. I admire you. Fleeing sometimes takes more courage than proving you can fight. To let go and leave it all behind is maybe the ultimate act of courage. I knew long ago that Portland was an overly aggressive town. Now you have an inkling of what it's like to live in a war zone. I would not choose it. Some are suited for it.
That's my philosophy in a nutshell. "Let others come to the mountain" rather than chasing other mounts, trying to battle them. I see it as concentric circles where phenomena build around the center. That would be me. Others can come and go as they please. The circles will still come.
That's a riveting description of the city in distress.
"I literally moved to a ski town and this is what I’ve been doing almost compulsively since moving."
You know when you have to move, and it sounds like a good move for you. Remember to breathe!
People usually move psychologically before they move physically. Some people move regularly but nothing really changes for them. For others, it's like a reincarnation. A new home is like a new body in a new time, place and community.
If one has specific requirements then it makes sense to choose the circumstances wisely. One can then more easily mold the new environment to suit one's particular needs and purpose.
"It is only when we realize that life is taking us nowhere that it begins to have meaning“
I can’t even tell you how much I love the opening quote. It is where I am right now... And omg yes “ People usually move psychologically before they move physically.”
The new home is in a quiet neighborhood, in the trees...
We are aligned spiritually m.p.k. I also fell completely in love with this quote. It says it all.
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