Category Archives: life

Free Will

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I was thinking the other day about the nature of free will-whether it was truly a viable concept given the determinist position that everything we do we do because it’s in our nature to do it and we really have no free choice in the matter.

So, I was thinking that in order to exercise free will I’d have to do just the opposite of what I was inclined to do; so that when making a decision, if it made total sense to do A-that A would be the best choice for my well-being-would be preferable to choice B in every way-that I would instead choose B in order to exercise said freewill even though it would result in a bad outcome for me.

I suppose the determinist would respond that the likelihood was I harbored masochistic tendencies and therefore perfectly natural and predictable that I would choose B.
So, given my said masochistic tendencies I instead choose A, I suppose the determinist would then respond that it is only natural to preserve one’s well-being and therefore no freewill will have been exercised in that case either.

So, what if I embraced the absurd-if I imagined a preternatural essence hovering about me-something that I interact with on a daily basis-a sort of magical companion? That would certainly take the wind out of the determinist’s sails wouldn’t it?

I guess, in the end, the freewill thing might depend on how carefully I listen to my invisible friend.

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The Rapture

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Sister Chloe was enlightening me the other day about what to expect when the end times descend upon us.  At some point, she said, the quick and the dead, provided they are/were true believers, will be raptured heavenward to live for eternity in paradise.

I got to wondering what ‘paradise’ might consist of; is the weather always temperate, the days sunny?  Will the food be exceptional?  Is exercise part of the equation even though it can be a bit painful sometimes?

Anyway, I was reading this book, The Leftovers, about these folks who didn’t get raptured so were left to their daily grinds.  Well, the question that immediately arose after the rapture was why them and not us. It seemed that some of those folks raptured didn’t appear to have led all that great of a life in moral terms and some of those left had been fairly devout church goers.  It was a real conundrum which led to the development of an extremist cult aimed at dealing with the leftovers’ apparent rejection.

Sister Chloe seems to think if I follow my conscience and try to always do the right thing I’ll be just fine-will have nothing to worry about when the Rapture happens.  She’s so compassionate; naïve but compassionate.

The Rapture

Migrating South

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Granny Applehead has been talking about joining the migration of the elderly to the warmer climes of the south.  She says that, as one’s metabolism slows down with age warmth is a primary need for any sort of comfort to exist.  She yearns for the nice dry walks and roadways and the easy availability of golf carts allowing a mobility that the ice, cold and snow prohibit.

Besides, she says, a retirement community offers the benefits of social interaction with others of one’s own age and, often, sensibility.  Structured days playing mahjong, drinking tea and attending concerts and lectures are pleasant distractions from our ever present aches and pains.  Everything about it points toward enjoying quality time in our autumnal years and prepare us for the day when the warmth of the cremation furnace will return us, dust to dust, to our mother earth from whence we came.

She jokes with her friends that she might instead opt for Plastination so that her children will be able to enjoy her personage gathering dust in the corner of the living room (boy, does that sound familiar).  It seems kind of morbid to me but I guess it’s just her way of making lite of the impending reality; the unknowns of death everyone must face.

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Fertility Rites

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Eastra, the doll of the season, was telling me the other day that in ancient times the beginning of spring at or about the time of the vernal equinox was celebrated with fertility rites which were meant to encourage a general fecundity among all living things animal and vegetable.

Many cultures had gods and goddesses honored in these rites; there was Artemis in Greece, Cebele in Phrygia, Diana in Ephesus and Attis the god of ever-reviving vegetation who was believed to have been born of a virgin and who died and was reborn annually.

I was trying to imagine what these rites might have been like. They probably involved a lot of fertilizing of various seeds and things and to get everyone into the mood, to get their energy up, to really get into the re-generation mind set there probably was a bit of strong drink, wild dancing and singing.

I found out Cebele the Phrygian Earth goddess was honored with a procession involving wild, high pitched flute music and drumming, scattered rose petals and clouds of incense followed by priests and priestesses scourging themselves with sharp knives.

But that was mild compared to the cult of Ishtar that may have involved child sacrifice, ritual copulation and virginal girls dancing around large male genitalia.

Whatever the rites involved the celebrants must have thought it worked. Besides the great fun had by all (excepting the sacrificial victim) animals reproduced, babies were born and crops grew. It does seem pretty magical and I guess it was hard for most people to take for granted the resurrection of the dormant (or dead) without providing some sort of penitential assistance even though we all know Mother Earth is a gigantic incubator and really doesn’t need that kind of help.

I think I’ll celebrate Mother’s magic with a nice contemplative walk in the woods.

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Thoughts on an After-Life

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I’ve been reading lately about the various ways different cultures and people think about after-life. Many of the various after-life conceptions identify an inner spirit or soul within each individual that is in some way immortal and will live on in a place determined by their conduct in the life they’ve just left. Some contend the deceased will be reborn taking a living form, animal or human, consistent with their previous moral, ethical existence.

Some researchers have hypothesized what the after-life might be like. One suggests that after death the soul floats into the atmosphere where it lives off of the ultra-violet rays from the sun. Another believes after death the self will find itself in a dream word of memories and mental images. Still another thinks the mind will merge into a collective consciousness the downside being it will relinquish its personality.

But, the idea about what the after-life will be like that I like best is that each person will experience a world of her own, unique to herself and consistent with her earthly existence. If my next world follows my nature then it will be filled with wonder and uncertainty and I will continue to question, to look for the ever elusive answer and to revel in the ever-present Mystery. What could be better than that?

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The Plain Truth

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The Jesus People stopped by the other day.  They wanted to know if I was interested in learning the Plain Truth.  When I didn’t immediately respond I was told that ever since the sins of Adam sentient beings (such as myself, I guess) have found themselves in a downward spiral away from God, and, being lost, attempted to find meaning on their own, their egotistic hubris leading them down dead end paths of misunderstanding and away from the mysteries of life and God’s purpose for all.  They told me all I had to do was appeal to God to reveal himself to me and I would then be in possession of the Plain Truth; just don’t over-think it.

I responded that I was cognizant of an essence outside myself, an ineffable aspect alive within and without nature that I recognized nourished my imaginative being allowing access to infinite possibility.  It provided a truly positive beauty I thought about and nurtured daily through meditation and community with nature.

Well, we found ourselves at a standstill; they clearly saw me as a lost soul heading south and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to travel their road no matter what direction it was going.  They walked off hoping, I suppose, for a more favorable response from my neighbor.

But the thing is there was no animosity present in our exchange maybe because we, on some level, recognized a kindred sense of common pursuit.  We’re all searching for the ineffable, just taking different paths.  Hooray for pluralism.

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Thoughts on Death

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I’ve been thinking about death lately.  I know, I know, but it’s winter what can I say.  Anyway, I was thinking if one is healthy and death suddenly appears it really has little effect on the suddenly deceased other than the fact he/she is dead, but, minimal pain is involved; healthy life, then extinction.

But, when I think about dying, anticipate it, I face the existential dilemma of no longer being here, in this my familiar environment which may not be perfect but certainly has pleasant aspects that I will surely miss, which is the reason, I guess, that thoughts of death are generally not thought of  in a positive light.

Which then leads me to wonder what’s next; the idea of a descent into nothingness is pretty hard for most of us to bear, which explains the various incredibly complex explanations and anticipations of preternatural existences man has thought up over the millennia.  There’s the heavenly realm, a Zanadu-like ideal city and Valhalla, the home of the gods. And then there are the more new-agie notions of rejoining the Collective Consciousness and the ancient Hindu notion of reincarnation leading eventually, if one is lucky, to re-unity with the Atman.

I guess some would call this fantastic, even delusional, but when I think of the absurdity of maintaining a sense of our individual significance in a world of billions of people and dolls in a limitless universe I guess entertaining thoughts of an after-life isn’t so terrible.

Mysterious Burial

Mysterious Burial

Really Good Art

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Have you ever seen any really good art?  You know, something that ignites your imagination, gives you a glimpse of timeless beauty, lifts your spirits, provides a sense of the common cultural ground you share with your fellow sentient beings and maybe even gives you an idea of how things could be, ideally, in the tomorrows ahead.

Well, I’ve seen art that moves me, maybe not in all these ways at one time, but still lifts me beyond the mundane redundancies of everyday existence.  These experiences happen to me and that’s why I visit museums.  And, from what I’ve read and heard, I’m not alone; others have had similar experiences.

It’s unfortunate that when they’re spoken about-the experiences I mean-they lose their impact and meaning.  They’re reduced, the more they’re spoken about, to nearly meaningless drivel or pseudo-intellectual nonsense, that, for those who have never had a truly aesthetic experience, turns them off completely; even dissuades them from seeking the enlightenment some of us get from seeing really good art.

It’s really too, too bad; I wish I could convince everyone to visit a museum, find one work of art he or she likes and consider what it means to him or her personally.  Reaching enlightenment can never be a bad thing.

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Winter Doldrums

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The winter doldrums have set in.  Nature lies in dormancy and I must admit I’m affected.  My thoughts increasingly become dark.  It’s like I’m living under a black cloud.

It seems like everyone’s rubbing me the wrong way these days.  I’m getting negative vibes from dolls (and people) I usually co-exist with easily.  Why does it seem they’re trying to impose their values-values that make absolutely no sense to me or with which I totally disagree.  I’m perfectly ok with others having opposing views but why can’t they just keep them to themselves.

And the weather’s terrible; cold, cold, cold.  I’m afraid of being taken outside, my plastic body becoming brittle and cracking; then I’d be in a fix.  I’d be destined for the scrap heap no doubt.

If I was religious I might be thinking about the sweet here-after, but given the mood I’m in crossing the River Styx is the more likely consideration.  I wonder which place houses the more interesting residents.

Oh well, I know it will pass. One morning I’ll wake up to a slightly stronger sunshine which will trigger a change.  I’ll once again be my usual upbeat self with an added bit of residual annoyance.

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A Renaissance Woman

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During the renaissance period in Europe, when artists weren’t painting scenes from the Bible commissioned by the church, they were likely painting portraits of the rich and famous.

Among the rich and famous at the time was the Borgia family whose numerous intrigues, rumors of incest, murder and orgiastic engagements made for great story telling in 15th century Valencia.

Often the future Pope Alexander VI’s daughter (and lover) Lucrezia was the center of attention.  She was by all accounts a captivating young woman, betrothed twice before her teen years and otherwise regularly used to further the political ambitions of the family.

But Lucrezia wasn’t simply a pawn in the Borgia’s game of political domination.  She was a true Renaissance woman, well educated, fluent in a number of languages including Latin and Greek.  She was politically astute and well-spoken at court where she cultivated friendships with leading artists, courtiers and poets of the day turning Ferrara into a center for the arts.

When one’s flame burns strong it’s often short-lived and such was the case for Lucrezia.  She wound up submersing herself in religion and dying at the age of 39.

I wonder where someone like Lucrezia would fit into the contemporary social milieu.  Would she contribute a strong and articulate female voice to the world dialogue regarding politics, feminism and the arts only to burnout in the futility of the endeavor, find religion and end up probably not being an asset to the abbey?

Whatever happened she would most certainly become a media favorite adored by the left and abhorred by the right.

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