I live in my world
alone;
My body, in this world
together
With killers, and
mothers;
With my acts and
others'
colliding and
forgotten
like
stones.
I think about how right
I am.
And feel angry at those who
oppose me:
Who question
and
doubt-face;
Inch back,
then
about-face
and leave like
a tide
Off
the sand.
So I doubt, in the space
in between
My thought and next
thought,
all I know.
And
there, for an
instant,
I
want just to
listen:
unright, un
wrong,
and
unseen.
I live out this body,
like you.
We live out these bodies,
in common.
So if
I'm right, maybe
you
are—
And this gap is
our
scar.
So Please,
"help me be
here with
you
.”
.”
21 September 2015:
ReplyDelete"Jess and I went to the Vedanta temple yesterday, listened to the swami talk about the importance of finding the space between our thoughts—as our minds jump from one idea to the next “like a drunken monkey bitten by a scorpion”—and expanding that space, from a tangent point to a larger and larger stillness; a quiet space wherein we can listen and experience our eternal/divine existence with the world. Afterward, we had a lunch, then talked privately over tea with Anapurna—now Ana—who is leaving the monastery after staying on as a nun for a year. The main topic of our conversation ended up circling around the fallacious concept of “willful ignorance”: Ana points out that no one wants to be a fool, and tries for it—men purposefully not comprehending the plight of women, or dominant races of minorities, or the rich of the poor, any other of any other. Ana said, for instance, she had heard a woman say to a black man, “I totally understand what it's like to be black, because I've been poor,” as though these were the same category of experience.
So we discussed what, in fact, drives people to, what I renamed “Perspective resistance.” And we decided it was, essentially, a natural symptom of the human response to fear of uncertainty: people want to feel that they know something, and are making constant forward progress in this world. And, especially in communities that use shame to guide social actions (which is MOST communities), people fall into the habit of hiding and denying their mistakes. This false-front then leads to a habit of premature/over-reaching assertions of understanding (“My understanding is true understanding”) and defensive responses to any perceived challenge to that claim of knowing (“I know, so if you say differently, you must not know”). This “I=right” makes a person feel valuable, but it also leads to them devaluing others' perspectives, and even feeling threatened by them. And this leads toward conflict: me-versus-you(=not-me) instead of me-with-you(=us). Also, it leads to a sense of being alone, protecting the isolated self rather than giving of that self and finding place/purpose/contentment with others.
So then, of course, this morning Jess came home for lunch and I decided I would look at my student reviews for the summer course I had taught. So she read over my shoulder, and I found myself taking them very personally—in a way that I never had before. She seemed shocked, and I apologized, saying I was not in a good head-space. She agreed, and said I should get some exercise, then go do something good for someone, which is how she deals with feeling unhappy. But after she left, I read them again, and found the reviews to be quite positive. Then I laughed: I realized that I had wanted her to be impressed with my reviews, and when I saw those few negative comments, I was afraid she would think less of me … so I shouted at those comments and defended myself from them. But once she left, I could read them for what they were: others' perspectives of my teaching—as they experienced it, and as they translated it in their own language. Those comments we a gift, to me, from others. And once I had put my thoughts of “Self” down, I could experience that sharing with gratitude."
At the end of this poem, the speaker asks another person to stay and be there with him. To me, this meant that he did not want to walk through life alone and instead wanted someone to share his experiences and hardships with him, as he says that “this gap is our scar.” The speaker asks for someone to stand by his side throughout his hardships, which is something that resonates strongly with me. I believe that nobody can go through life alone, and that everybody needs a partner or friends and family to lift them up and support them when needed. Attempting to deal with struggles alone leads to feelings of being overwhelmed and drowning in what one needs to do. With caring friends and family by one’s side, they will manage to conquer whatever challenge they face.
ReplyDeleteWhen I first read this poem (and your comment by the way was very interesting and unexpected), I thought about how I always sort of wondered at a young age whether I was the only real human, whether everything was a simulation and I was the only real one, and how I could prove any of my hypothesis. Obviously these questions went unanswered and my mind shifted away from them to instead focus on my hopes and dreams. After all, even if it is a simulation, shouldn’t I live life for all it’s worth and fulfill my full potential. Yes! I think so at least. I also like to think about how strange it is that some of human history goes down as events of paramount importance such as the battle of Thermopylae or something (that one’s actually really cool though) and most things like sitting down at a camp fire or catching a fish go forgotten. Why is this? Well, I think it's similar to a popularity contest only the contestants are historical events and the only people caring are the ones bored enough with their own time to look back into history. That said, thinking about the angry encounter described in the poem in which the speaker feels “right” and their argument is (of course) justified, I realized that so many humans–past, present, and future–will have similar arguments, similarly disjointed viewpoints, and resulting in different but similarly inconsequential levels of mutual disgust. This is not to say that everything is pointless like Meursault believes in The Stranger. Actually, this message is the opposite because of the impact that it can have on people’s relationships. Simply put: the people that we love and care about are the most important things. Don’t get all bent out of shape when someone disagrees with you. Keep an open mind and maybe your counterpart will even learn something from you.
ReplyDelete"some of human history goes down as events of paramount importance ... and most things like sitting down at a camp fire or catching a fish go forgotten. ... similar to a popularity contest only the contestants are historical events and the only people caring are the ones bored enough with their own time to look back into history."
DeleteI remember when I was younger, hearing older people talk about history, and thinking how boring it was ~ why do they care? But once you live past 20, you start seeing things recycle (fashions, political ideals, war and peace demonstrations, fad diets, etc.) and theeen history gets really interesting (not just for the "bored" book-nerd) because it kind of tells you what the future is going to be: it says "When people do X, governments do Y; when group1 wants group2's stuff, they'll justify taking it by Z; etc..."
It's a map.
I'm not saying "Go read history!" now. But, at some point, when you start noticing the patterns of world events recycling... then maybe give it a shot :)