The Self & The Other

Beltane                                Waxing Strawberry Moon

Finally, some sun.  That’s good for the bees, good for the veggies and good for the spirit.

I collect articles on certain subjects:  art, aesthetics, philosophy, political theory, modernism, individualism for instance.  Over the last few months there has been an interesting increase in the number of articles I’ve found with new takes on individualism.

Let me give you an example.  You might think of the existentialist as one end of the continuum, radical individualists, almost, sometimes actually, solipsistic.  That’s me philosophically and in terms of deep belief about matters often called religious.  On the other end you might consider the Asian cultures in which the individual has no unique identity except as they function within the family or the state.  You might be the second son, the first wife, a citizen of a particular city or region.  Feudalism, too, had a class based view of the person.  Peasants were a large, amorphous group who worked the land, did jobs like tanning, blacksmithing, weaving, but whose individual qualities were of little obvious merit.

It’s not surprising that the enlightenment with its focus on reason, blended with the Renaissance emergence of the individual as a psychological reality had such a powerful and corrosive affect on feudal culture.  It moved away from class based political and social structures toward more democratic and meritocratic ones.

Anyhow, here’s the interesting piece I read the other day.  Those of us, like me, who believe in the inviolable isolation of our Self, forever walled off from the rest by the flesh and our peculiar, ineluctably unique internal world have it wrong.  The Self, in this view, is socially constructed.  We are who others see us to be, or, said another way, we see ourselves in the way that others see us.  In this perspective the political libertarian, the leave me alone and let me do it my way Rand Paul crowd, denies the very nature of the system within which they live.  That is, at one level, it is a system made of up of intimately connected parts, parts that could not be without the other.   There is, from this perspective, no alone; we are always apart of, perhaps not in the more rigidly defined feudal or Asian family way, but in a manner much closer to them than to the live alone, die alone types like me.

In fact, this article goes on to compare the socially constructed self and the democratic state with love, a bond in which we are only who we are in relation to each other.  This makes us, if we deny this bond as libertarians do, jilted lovers when our dependence on the state and each other is revealed.

Politically, I find this argument compelling, explaining as it does the Tea Party anger as the anger of lovers in denial.

Personally, the socially constructed aspect of the self cannot be denied.  Even the stance of the existentialist comes from reading, say, Camus or Sartre or Kierkegaard, a fellowship of lonesome strangers.  Yes, the fingers of the other does reach into the interior, switching on certain perceptions, switching off others.  Yet, this much is still true:  no one knows my inner world.  No one except me.  No one has lived my life.  No one but me.  No one else will die when I wink out.  No one.  These radically separate realities keep me on the existentialist end of the bell curve.  At least for now.

Bee Diary: June 16, 2010

Beltane                           Waxing Strawberry Moon

My inexperience is showing. At the Hobby Beekeeper’s meeting they suggested we look at each frame.  I did that.  With three colonies that’s a lot of frames.  In the package colony it seemed to me that there were not as many bees as there should be right now, though I stopped here to read Nature’s Nectar and it sounds like other beekeeper’s with packages from his second load (mine) have about the same activity as I do. I put in another pollen patty and left the syrup the same since it was down only about half from the last week.  There were larvae so it’s still queen right.  It needs to get to three deeps by the fall.  I imagine it will make it.

I put a third hive body on the divide.  The bees had drawn out comb on the second hive body I put on last week and there were frames with brood.  The overall colony looked pretty good.  I guess.  It’s hard for me to judge since I don’t have an exemplar outside of my own colonies.  There were swarm cells and some of them looked chewed.  At the Beekeeper’s meeting last week they said that usually means the bees have swarmed.  I can’t tell.  When bees swarm, they leave a colony behind and a new colony takes off with a queen.

The parent colony has one honey super that is heavy.  Really heavy.  A second one has some honey and the bees have begun to draw comb on the other two, but not much.  Since the bees don’t go out on rainy, cloudy days, the production of honey has slowed down.  We need a run of sunny, warm days.

Since I’m studying bee diseases in an online course right now, I imagined I saw disease.  Don’t know if it was or not.  A learning curve.

My Bad

Beltane                                    Waxing  Strawberry Moon

Well.  It seems I have the wrong moon for this month.  Even though my listing of moon names included Hungry Ghost as one for this month, further research reveals that in the Chinese calendar the seventh month falls over the August/September time period.  I imagine this is because the Chinese New Year typically happens in mid-February.  Sorry about the confusion.  We’re return to Hungry Ghost in the appropriate time.  Here’s a teaser from the China Daily:

Much like Western culture’s Halloween, some Eastern cultures celebrate a Fall festival where they believe the gates of hell are thrown open, releasing hungry ghosts to wander the earth in search of food and taking revenge upon those who wronged them in life. This month-long festival is known as the Hungry Ghost Festival and takes place during the 7th lunar month.

Unlike other celebrations of the dead in Eastern cultures that seek to honor dead ancestors, the Hungry Ghost Festival seeks to pacify the hungry ghosts, the ghosts of strangers and the un-cared-for dead. These are the ghosts of those who died by their own hands, by accidents, by drowning or hanging who have been denied entry into heaven. Angry because they are forced to dwell in hell without food or comfort, when released, they search for souls to take their place in misery.

To Taoists(道教徒) and Buddhists(佛教徒), these evil spirits are not to be taken lightly. They are most active at night and can take many forms including: snakes, moths(蛾), birds, foxes, wolves, and tigers. They can even appear as beautiful men or women to seduce the living. When they possess an individual by entering the body they cause illness and mental disorders.

Throughout this month, to keep the angry spirits amused, people stage street operas and other forms of public entertainment. In the past, people did not view the street operas as they were performed only for ghosts. Other rituals(典礼,仪式)are performed to help souls enter into heaven. Taoists do their best to avoid late nights away from these amusements and rituals to steer clear of the evil spirits. To appease these wandering spirits, Buddhists and Taoists burn bundles of joss sticks, paper hell money, food, and other offerings by the roadside. Communities along rivers or near the sea float lanterns in the shape of the lotus or carved from fruit or gourds in the water to guide them away from their homes. They follow the lanterns from the river bank or sea shore till they can no longer be seen. This is done to redeem the soul of those who died by drowning.

The most important days of this month are the 14th and 15th, the days of the great feasts. On the 14th, a great feast would be held to honor family ancestors. Prayers and offerings would be made at family altars. On the following night, the 15th, they would feast for the hungry ghosts. Held outside under the full moon, these feasts feed the evil spirits so that they will leave the living alone and bribe(贿赂) the ancestors for luck with money and the harvest.

We Cleaned House

Beltane                                 Waxing Hungry Ghost Moon

Lois, our housecleaner, had a wedding this last week-end.  Her daughter’s.  A big deal, planned for years, literally.  She has wisely chosen to take the week before and the week after off from OPH (other people’s houses), but the dirt does not stop coming. So, we’re doing it ourselves.  Not a big deal, I agree, but it’s been a while for me and the work, though it’s not difficult still takes time.  That’s the biggest component of it.

(ok.  these weren’t the actual gloves.)

Just finished cleaning three bathrooms and vacuuming half the basement, now the other half and upstairs.  We could do this if our budget demanded it.  It doesn’t.

Reaching Back in Time

Beltane                      Waxing Hungry Ghost Moon

We’re only a week away from the summer solstice, but you could not tell it from our current weather.  We’ve had a cool, rainy streak that has made work outside appealing.  It’s also given the weeds considerable encouragement.

The internet allows a look-up phenom that you’ve no doubt experienced at least once.  An e-mail shows up from someone in the way back long ago.  A posting of Facebook.  A comment on  your blog.  I’ve had a few.  Got one Friday from a high school girlfriend, a relationship that meant something to me.  It was nice to hear from her since we stopped seeing each other my senior year and went our separate ways.  E-mail is a great medium for this kind of oh my it’s been so long reacquaintance.  Neutral. Not time sensitive.

Vega has a new gorilla that she carries with her in the house where ever she goes.  It makes a noise and whenever she triggers it, she scoots off for a safe area, not quite sure.  Rigel has no interest in toys, she enjoys the thrill of the hunt, the joy of escape.  Which she did yesterday.  Again.  She got out through a hole under the fence I wouldn’t have thought big enough for her.  I’ve hardened the lower edge of the fence line over the years, but this spot had rotted out.  I found her collar hooked on a log where she’d crawled under the chain-link.  She does not go over the fence anymore.  Electricity.

Kate’s on a countdown for a new hip.  June 30th.  She commented on a discogram yesterday (this involves a probing needle that injects dye between the discs to get a contrast image), “I’m a Norwegian, a stoic and a woman and still I had copious tears.”  She can bear it, but she pays a price.  She also observed, by the way, that I will never, ever have a discogram.  She’s right on that one.

Not a bee day today.  Wednesday looks like the day for the hive inspection.

A Pruning Dervish

Beltane                            New Moon (Hungry Ghost)

Kate became a pruning dervish this morning, clearing a pathway to our front door, giving the draping yew apruned-old-salvia hair-cut and generally wrecking havoc with weeds and overgrown shrubs.  Yeah.  Now I’m moving the detritus to a resting place where the grape vines, columbine and raspberries will grow over it and make it a productive part of our property instead of a house-hider.

I have gotten through the perfect passive system for all verbs, interrogative pronouns, interrogative adjectives and a new  vocabulary.  Later on we’re going to skype with the kids and the grandkids.  How Sunday’s going around here.

Globe Circling Teens

Beltane                                          New Moon (Hungry Ghost)

A Latin day except for periods outside.  I’ve found doing the chapter of Wheelock that’s next up on Sunday, at least most of it, lets me finish the chapter on Monday or at the latest Tuesday morning.  That gives me Tuesday and Wednesday to work on Ovid.  My tutor says I have to be very mechanical at this point, hunt for the subject, object, verb first.  I have a tendency to get lost looking for meaning in all the wrong places.  Just like life.

Abby Sunderland, the 16 year old girl who would circle the globe, had her main mast broken in nasty weather.  The South Indian ocean, which gets a lot of its weather from the interaction of the cold Antarctic air with the warmer air from the tropics has a nasty reputation among sailors.  Jessica Watson, the 16 year girl who did circle the world, passed through the Southern Indian Ocean about a month ago and she had rough weather there, too.

To say that 16 year olds should not be allowed to do this kind of thing is stupid.  Perhaps most 16 year olds, or nearly all 16 year olds, but you have to leave open the option for the prodigy or the merely very competent.  Jessica Watson makes the case.  So does Abby Sunderland.  Having a mast broken would put a stop to any sailor, no matter their level of experience.  Abby did not die.  She had emergency gear and plans.  They all worked.

Might there be a tragedy someday?  Yes, I imagine there will.  Probably already has been.  Alexander the Great was 20 when he set out to conquer the known world.  33 when he died.  How many of today’s risk averse adults would allow their children to set out, even at 20, to conquer the world?  I thought so.

My point is that teen agers are individuals, not cookie-cutter imitations of each other.  Over much of history teen agers had the bulk of the babies, fought the wars and were even leaders of their families and communities.  Our complex cultural environment now trends toward longer and longer periods of pre-adulthood, an article in the paper today said many Gen-Xers and Millenials will not marry, have kids or get started in their careers until they are in their late 20’s or early 30’s.

It does not change the fact that some teen agers–you know who you are–have the capacity to handle individual efforts beyond even most adults.

A Garden Morning

Beltane                                   New Moon (Hungry Ghost)

The potatoes have mounds around the growing plants and the hilled up earth from their trenches has leveled out.  The bush beans I planted there last week 06-05-10_garden_herb-spiral-670have begun to germinate and I plan to plant more bush beans tomorrow if the weather is ok.

While checking fruit on our trees, I ended up weeding the blueberries, too.  The clover is exuberant, mostly a happy addition to our orchard, but overwhelming in the blueberry patch.  We do have apples and cherries and currants, but I could find no pears.  Our production will at least double this year, maybe more.  I counted six apples and several, say 8, cherries.  The currants have experienced substantial predation, by birds, I think.

I mounded earth around the growing leeks, too, to blanch the stems.   The garlic, which grows near the leeks, looked ready to harvest, but when I pulled a few out of the ground, they looked like they had a ways to go.  I hung the five I dug from a bamboo pole in the honey house.

Kate’s begun weeding and that helps a lot.  Keeping the bees, the vegetables, the orchard and the flowers in good shape requires attending to the plants we have, doing things like mounding the potatoes and the leeks, checking the garlic, watching for disease and insects, taking action if a plant seems to be in distress, replanting if, as in the instance of the carrots, germination is low.  Though weeding is an important, very important maintenance action, it doesn’t involve direct plant care which is what I enjoy.  I’m glad to have Kate back at the weeding.  She’s also our pruner and she has begun to recover our front sidewalk.

Then it rained.

Friday, Friday

Beltane                                         New Moon (Hungry Ghost)

Errands this morning to the pharmacy, Office Max and Pet Smart.  Our Vega loves her toys and is a strong vegaoutsidefencechewer.  Even buying the ones rated For Power Chewers she eventually gnaws the damned things apart.  But she has such joy with them.  Throwing them in the air, carrying them from place to place, sleeping with them.

(Vega east of eden)

Back home for a Sierra Club call about some structural changes in the Chapter’s legislative process, then a nap.  If I were more energetic today, I’d put in some time weeding, but I’m not feelin’ it.

The nurse’s strike did not impact Urgent Care last night, but even if it had, this house supports the nurses.

The Celtics

Beltane                                                Waning Planting Moon

Just watched the Celtics beat the Lakers.  A good run in the fourth quarter by the Celtic bench, no, make that a great run, to take the Celtics from four points down to as much as 11 up.  I don’t watch much basketball anymore, my street cred as a Hoosier slipping further and further away.  This finish made me remember why basketball is such a dynamic, fun to watch game, even on television.

The only thing you don’t get on television is the size, the astonishing size of the players.  Like the pro football players these folks are in a class of humans that occupy the extreme of the bell curve in height, weight and athletic ability.  Us 5 feet 7 inch guys literally don’t measure up.

It’s been a long time since I watched any sport other than football.  Like tonight I’ll catch part of a basketball game, the end of the 500 mile race, maybe one of the triple crown races with Kate.  During the winter olympics I watch a few things like the skiing events and the luge, maybe something else like biathlon and in the summer olympics I like track and field events like the dashes, the shorter distance races, long jump, pole vault, sometimes the basketball, other than those not much.

This is a culture change from my Indiana days when I used to watch basketball, especially college basketball, baseball, racing.  Other things to do.