Category Archives: Humanities

Marginal

Samhain                                                                       Christmas Moon

We saw the last of the Brother/Sister trilogy yesterday afternoon at Curious Theater, “No guts, no story.” Marcus, the Secret of Sweet. This trilogy, which used Yoruba mythology heavily in its first two plays, lightens up on that in the last one. It is a complex story, one I’d need to see the whole again to piece it together with any confidence, but the trilogy gives the background, both cultural and mythic, to the coming of age of a young gay black man in Louisiana.

Though uneven at times in the first two plays, this last play stays focused and gets at the multiple challenges of being different in a community already oppressed for difference. The trilogy is about outliers, about the challenges that face them in daily life, about the deep mythos that can ground them, but often doesn’t.

Sexuality is, at best, a confused and highly charged aspect of human life. And, that’s for the normative heterosexual experience. Move into the homoerotic and the layering of doubts, fears, joys, ecstasies increase. Place that in a southern Christian African-American community, a community with the history of enslavement as yet another force pushing sexuality to the margins and the burden on one young boy is immense.

If you get the chance to see these plays, this drama and this playwright will open your mind and your heart.

Having a Moment

Lughnasa                                                            Labor Day Moon

I’m having a moment. It’s immediate stimulus has been reading How Forests Think, by Eduardo Kohn. Kohn is an anthropologist who has done significant field work in el Oriente, the east of Ecuador where the Andes go down into the tropical rain forests of the Amazon drainage. But this book is something else. Though it draws on his field work with the Runa, its focus is the nature of anthropology as a discipline and, more broadly, how humans fit into the larger world of plants and animals.

Thomas Berry’s little book, The Great Work, influenced a change in my political work from economic justice to environmental politics. Berry said that the great work for our time is creating a sustainable human presence on the earth. In 2008 I began working on the political committee of the Sierra Club with an intent to do my part in an arena I know well. I continued at the Sierra Club until January of 2014 until I resigned, mostly to avoid winter driving into the Twin Cities.

Since then, I’ve been struggling with how I can contribute to the great work. Our garden and the bees were effective, furthering the idea of becoming native to this place. The move to Colorado though has xed them out.

Kohn’s book has helped me see a different contribution I can make. Political work is mostly tactical, dealing in change in the here and now or the near future. In the instance of climate change, tactical work is critical for not only the near future but for the distant future as well. I’ve kept my head down and feet moving forward on the tactical front for a long, long time.

There are though other elements to creating a sustainable human presence on the earth. A key one is imagining what that human presence might be like. Not imagining a world of Teslas and Volts, renewable energy, local farming, water conservation, reduced carbon emissions, though all those are important tactical steps toward that presence; but, reimagining what it means to be human in a sustainable relationship with the earth.

Kohn is reimagining what being human is. His reimagining is a brilliant attempt to reframe who thinks, how they think and how all sentience fits together. He’s not the only one attempting to do this. The movement is loosely called post-humanist, removing humans from the center of the conceptual universe.  A posthuman world would be analogous to the solar system after Galileo and Copernicus removed the earth from the center. Humans, like the earth, would still exist, but their location within the larger order will have shifted significantly.

This fits in so well with my reimagining faith project. It also fits with some economic reimagining I’ve been reading about focused on eudaimonia, human flourishing. It also reminds me of a moment I’ve recounted before, the Iroquois medicine man, a man in a 700 year lineage of medicine men, speaking at the end of a conference on liberation theology. The time was 1974. He prayed over the planting of a small pine tree, a symbol of peace among the tribes of the Iroquois confederacy because those tribes put their weapons in a hole, then planted a pine tree over them.

His prayer was first to the winged ones, then the four-leggeds and those who swim and those who go on water and land, the prayer went on asking for the health and well-being of every living thing. Except the two-leggeds. I noticed this and went up to him after the ceremony and asked him why he hadn’t mention the two-leggeds. “Because,” he said, “we two-leggeds are so fragile. Our lives depend on the health of all the others, so we pray for them. If the rest are healthy, then we will be, too.”

Reimagine faith in a manner consistent with that vision. Reimagine faith in a post-humanist world. Reimagine faith from within and among rather than without and above. This is work I can do. Work my library is already fitted to do. Work I’ve felt in my gut since an evening on Lake Huron, long ago, when the sun set so magnificently that I felt pulled into the world around me, became part of it for a moment. Work that moment I’ve mentioned before when I felt aligned with everything in the universe, that mystical moment, has prepared me for. Yes, work I can do. Here on Shadow Mountain.

 

 

 

Bibliotherapy

Beltane                                                                 Healing Moon

My father’s day present from Kate is a session with the bibliotherapists at the School of Life. I’ll write more about it after I’ve had my session, but I wanted to share here the questionnaire they send out in advance. Later, I’ll post my answers. Meanwhile, these are interesting questions to ponder.

I’m seeking their thoughts on a reading plan for the next few years. Feels like my reading has gotten chaotic and I’d like to put some more heft in it. We’ll see what the process produces.

Welcome to The School of Life Bibliotherapy Service.Prior to your consultation we would appreciate it if you could take a few minutes to answer the following questions.
Name: X
Contact no: X
instructions: Please send your answers to us at:bibliotherapy@theschooloflife.com

at least 24 hours before your consultation.

We look forward to speaking with you. PLEASE let us know 24 hours in advance if for some reason you can’t make your appointment. Failure to do so may result in forfeiting your session.

 

 

 

About your reading habits
How would you describe your relationship to books?

 

X
Did books feature largely in your childhood? X
Where do you like to read? X
Why do you read? X
In a bookshop, which section do you head to first? And then? X
Which books and authors have loved most? Least enjoyed? X
Do you like the challenge of a big fat tome or do you prefer something slim? X
Do you always finish the books you start? X
In your mind, what constitutes a “good read”? X
If there were such a thing as the perfect book for you, what would it be like? X

 

 

 

About you
How old are you?

 

X
Are you single, co-habiting, married, divorced? Do you have kids? X
What do you do for a living? for fun? X
What is preoccupying you at the moment? X
What are your passions? X
What is missing from your life? X
Where do you see yourself in 10 years’ time? X

 

The Blood of the Lamb

Spring                                                   Mountain Spring Moon

There are historic occasions that are of major cultural significance, then there are occasions of historic significance on a smaller scale. Last night Jen  hosted her first seder. It felt good to drive over to their home (see above for the route) for a holiday, especially passover. One of the characteristics of Judaism that has long appealed to me is its emphasis on worship and holidays centered in the home.

Many of the most memorable holidays like Hannukah and Sukkoth are observed in the home. And, in fact, passover, a key holiday for Jewish identity along with Rosh Hoshanah Purim and Yom Kippur, is largely a home based celebration. I’ve been to several over the years, but none of them were as sweet as this one.

A Rabbinic Haggadah guides those gathered through this old, old ritual. Traditional estimates place the Exodus, the story at the heart of pesach, or passover, in 1300 B.C.E. Perhaps three thousand years old pesach links each Jewish family and their seder guests to a time of liberation from bondage, making freedom from slavery an essential part of Jewish identity.

To join family in a celebration with this much history makes my heart glad. Though the metaphysics of Judaism do not appeal to me, the long march, the ancientrail of Jewish identity held constant throughout millennia by these very same observances does. And I felt privileged to be there.

 

Living Large

Spring                                                   Mountain Spring Moon

Over the last couple of days an e-mail exchange between two friends used, twice, the phrase living large. As sometimes happens, this time I looked at it and said, huh? What does that mean? So I looked it up in the urban dictionary and another online slang dictionary. Here’s what they had:

able to pay for and enjoying a very expensive style of living.  Vacations in the hot spots, a huge apartment in the city, cars, servants – that’s my idea of living large!

phr. Doing okay. (The response to How ya living?) I’m living large. How you doing?

Living with an extravagant or self-indulgent lifestyle.

In a cascade came another phrase: How then, shall we live? then, Peter Singer’s new book: Doing the Most Good. Then, what? And, living well is the best revenge.

I’ve always been struck by the power of unspoken, perhaps even unknown motivators, things that might have entered our psychic world unnoticed, sort of sliding in under our usual filters. My suspicion is that living large is such an unspoken, often unknown motivator.

The idea of being able to spread out in your world, to recline at your ease where and when you want underlies many an entrepreneur’s aspirations. It drives many during the long years of getting professional degrees, especially in the law and medicine. Those kids shooting hoops on inner-city asphalt, the rapper with the gold medallion around the neck, even the drug dealers and pimps, all want to live large. And, you might say, why not?

Yes, there’s the American dream. And, now the Chinese dream. In both cases you might say the dream is to live large in relation to poverty, to the uncertain rungs on society’s socioeconomic ladders. In that original dream the goal is a stable life, one with a home, enough food, savings, health care, education for the kids. And, yes, for many, maybe most of humanity, over most of history that goal would have been unattainable. In that sense these modest dreams represent living large.

But these kind of dreams have a way of metastasizing, like body builders on steroids, like an unchecked cancer. Instead of being a dream they become a nightmare of needs turned into desires and desires turned into lust. In this, its more usual sense, I think living large represents the corrupting influence of late-stage capitalism, where to gain more becomes its own rationale. Living large is not an aim, it’s a manifesto of unchecked wants that will, somehow, be satisfied.

Living small. Now there’s an aim.

Born To Be Wild

Spring                                 Mountain Spring Moon

In late April, early May I will attend my 27th retreat with the Woolly Mammoths, this year in Ely at the YMCA’s Camp du Nord. Often we have a theme and I suggested the following:

Been thinking about topic and theme. Seems like Ely area cries out for considering the wilderness, the wild within and without. What does it mean to be wild? In your life? In your heart? In and with your passions? Does wildness have anything to say to the third phase? How does wilderness feed us, heal us? Why? Another aspect of the same idea. What is to be human and wild? How do humans fit into the wild? Do we? Can we? It seems to me this is much of what Will Steger has dealt with.

As I’ve begun to consider these questions, take them into my heart, my civilized and my wild heart, they’ve begun to pull information out of the surrounding atmosphere. As often happens once we focus on something.

One source that has been prodding me over the last week is a book, The Great Divide: A Biography of the Rocky Mountains, by Gary Ferguson. In the first chapter on Mountain Men comes this observation. Richard Slotkin, an American studies professor at Wesleyan University suggests that a main theme of early America was the shredding of conventional European mythology and getting to a more primary source, the “blood knowledge” of the wilderness. Since was the time of Emerson and Thoreau, too, both of whom were instrumental in the turn away from European influence and toward development of American letters, American thought, American literature and who were, again both, focused on the natural world as a source of inspiration, it seems this tendency to turn our back on “civilization,” whether European then, or decadent American late-stage capitalism now, and look to the wilderness for guidance is an integral aspect of the American character.

It may be less so now than then, but nonetheless, it endures. Look at the heritage of John Muir, Aldo Leopold, the outdoors ethos of Minnesota, Colorado and Alaska (to name state cultures I know), the idea of the West.

In this same chapter Ferguson counterpoises the Easterners romanticization of the mountain men as true individuals living with unfettered freedom with the civilized and European inflected culture of the East Coast. This was true, he says, throughout the 19th century. In fact, many of the mountain men worked in companies of 20-30, with some trapping, some hunting, some cooking, some taking care of supplies and pelts. They also tended to travel with their families and were surprisingly well-educated. About 1/5 of the mountain men left memoirs and many were fluent in both Latin and Greek.

I mention this because when our gaze turns toward the Boundary Waters Wilderness, the Rocky Mountains, the Sierra Nevada range or the expanses of wilderness in Alaska, to mention only a few of the wild areas in the U.S. alone, we often look toward them as places of healing, zones where civilization can be shed, as mystical bounded lands within which magic of a sort is still possible.

In fact though these are simply places where the hand of civilization has been light-though not absent. Witness acid rain, the extinction or near extinction of apex predators, and now the slow creep of climate change. And the need for a word like wilderness, the notion of wild occurs only when its dialectical opponent, civilization, has become ascendant.

So, to consider the wild in our hearts, in our lives, in our country we need also look at how civilized we are. What being civilized means. What needs civilization meets that wilderness does not and the reverse. We must also consider that the dynamics of these questions are bound up, in a particular way, with the American experience, with our sense of who we are as a people and a nation. It is not enough, in other words, to imagine the wild heart, but we must also attend to its gilded cage. It is not enough to seek the blood knowledge of the wilderness, but we must also attend to the context, our everyday home, where that knowledge has been lost.

Back At It

Imbolc                                  Black Mountain Moon

I’ve found my rhythms. Back at Latin, going to turn today back to Ovid from Caesar. Writing. I’m 4,000 words plus into Superior Wolf and my brain is buzzing, following trails here and there with characters, research, narrative structure. Working out is back, too, 6 days a week right now. I’m not where I was in terms of fitness, not sure how the altitude has affected me, but I’m improving and that’s the key. The whole fitness area is still in flux, but I have a pattern I’m using.

A new element, too. I’m going to make some art. Not sure what quite yet, though I’ve got some ideas and lots of material. When my center room work space gets finished, I plan to get at it. There’s also, with art, the research and work with art history, theory. Not there yet in that work, but it will come.

Even, if you managed to get through my long posts under Beyond the Boundaries, Original Relation and Reimagining Faith, you’ll know, my reimagining project has finally begun to take off. Why now I’m not sure, but there you go.

This blog, of course, has remained a constant.

Now, if we could just sell that house.

And Then Is Heard No More

Imbolc                               Black Mountain Moon

Let’s paint the same message as below, but with a different brush and color. Gray fading to black dominated the last post. Let’s use blue fading to dark, dark blue here.

Life is the time between the first rays of dawn and the last, bruised hours of twilight. At its brightening life comes with expansiveness, light revealing first this and then that, all new. These are the hours of Heidegger’s being thrown into the world. We see first a soon-to-be familiar face, then faces. Realize at some point a home, then the home in a particular place. That place is in a larger frame which sometimes takes a while to come into focus. At some point we know that the 1950’s, this time of childhood is neither, say, the the 1930’s of our parent’s time nor is it the middle ages with knights and castles and it is not, either, the future. Not 2000. Not 1984.

Over the next few years we learn that our unique self will have its hour upon the stage over a certain span of time, not any we wish, but this one and this one alone. Who we are to become, what we are to do must fit into these years, years that have their own shape, their own special challenges, their own significant opportunities. We choose this path, that person, those places. They fit or they don’t. If they don’t, we choose again.

As the years accumulate and our hour ticks down, the choices become fewer, narrower. Our own history now shapes our future. This is a time of reaping, of being the person you have chosen to be, the unique mixture of your Self and the times into which you have been thrown. When the reaping is finished, our hour is up.

Finishing One Step, Moving to the Next

Imbolc                                                                                       Settling Moon II

Up in the loft again after feeding the dogs this morning. A bright, Raphael-esque pink paints the clouds I can see between the lodgepole pines.

Yesterday I came very close to getting all my books stacked by rough category and I will finish today: American studies, emergence/Lake Superior/climate change/science/, art, philosophy, war, aging, weather, bees, classics/mythology/ancient history, poetry/spirituality/religion/renaissance, literature, Asia, Latin America.

Once done with that task I can move on to filing. That will involve moving some files out of banker’s boxes and into my horizontal file.  Many of my files, including all my novel manuscripts and research, will stay in boxes. A convenient place for them will to be created.

The congestion has decreased considerably and will decrease a lot more after the filing is done.

My two large rubber mats for the gym area won’t arrive until mid-month, but when they do that will allow me to finish off the workout area. At some point Jon will get started on the built-ins. This whole process will take a good bit of time, but the end result will be wonderful.

 

Deserving?

Winter                                                                                  Settling Moon II

Jon came up last night to handle some handyman tasks. While here, he and I discussed the loft and what I need in additional bookshelves. He suggested built-ins. I’d thought about them, but dismissed the idea as too expensive. Jon had alternative ideas about how to get there. One of them is to use pre-built bookshelves and enclose them.

We decided to go ahead. I’m excited. Being to live inside a library. Wow. I’ve had that feeling to some extent with various combinations of bricks and concrete blocks covered with raw wood, cheaply purchased particle board bookcases and self-assemble IKEA, but never in a consistent look. Jon has the skills and I have the books.

He also said something which touched me deeply. “You deserve it,” he said, in reference to a designed library. Deserve is a strong word and my first reaction was, why? What have I done to deserve a nice library? Then my third phase self emerged. No, I’m not sure I deserve one, but if he’s offering, I’d be silly not to accept.

Just so you know. We will be paying him for his labor.