Category Archives: life

The Joys of Doubt

by in art, drawing, humor, life, philosophy, religion, skepticism and tagged , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I had a visit from Pastor Ted recently.  We have quite a congenial relationship so long as we avoid speaking of religion or politics, which is why my ire was elevated a bit when he mentioned he read in one of my posts, that I referred to myself as a skeptical seeker.  That must mean, he surmised, that I was open and susceptible to salvation; a viable candidate for recruitment to his army of the saved.

I truly hate to be drawn into a discussion of this sort since it’s become clear that neither of us has any idea what the other understands to be true in the realm of the spiritual.  I tried to explain once again that for me doubt is the most uplifting of intellectual positions I can imagine; that doubt is the only philosophical option that allows complete freedom of investigation; that doubt is a most joyous state.

Alas, I fear Pastor Ted is so convinced his beliefs are the absolute truth and that anyone who is willing can commit to his beliefs, that he is unable to accept any alternative.

Pastor Ted is an honestly good person and a good friend but I guess, as Dorothy Parker so aptly put it, you can’t teach an old dogma new tricks.

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Goodness

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In the novel Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy has the character Levin say: ‘If goodness has a cause it is no longer goodness; if it has consequences, or rewards it is not goodness either.’  Since Leo based the character Levin on himself he must have thought there was truth to such an idea.

If  I accept Levin’s statement as true then following the Golden Rule is not an example of practicing goodness because then I’m being good in the hopes other people will be good to me.

I guess Adam and Eve were inherently good, always obeying God until the serpent introduced them to the fruits of the Tree of Knowledge, the one thing forbidden by God who evidently wanted to keep Adam and Eve from knowing too much.

So, I suppose the moral of the story must be that the only way to be truly good is to be oblivious.

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Complacency

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I find myself wallowing in contentment these days; consciously maintaining a positive outlook, simply putting the negatives out of my mind.

Breathe deeply:  inhale, exhale.

Avoiding confrontation means avoiding interaction to a large extent; companionship is reserved for one or two close friends.  I follow the news but refuse to dwell on tragedy.  Like Emil Cioran says: better not to act; action can only lead to regrets.

So, I stand here, day after day, feeling the soft summer breezes, inhaling the sweet scents of garden flowers, listening to the optimistic bird song.  What could be better?

I refuse to allow myself to be upset.  Why can’t little Annie sing on key?  What is LeonardD doing with that power saw?  What if those neighbor children want to play with me?  They’re so rough.

Never mind.

I’m afraid I’m becoming complacent.  Nothing excites me.  I think maybe there’s a difference between the calm of a centered discipline and my near lethargy.  Perhaps it would be good to step into an uncomfortable situation; force myself to face phenomena that will upset me; get my blood (such as it is) boiling.  Maybe Nietzsche’s right: ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’

Well, I’ll think about it.  I’m a bit drowsy; the gentle patter of the water fountain is very relaxing.  I’m not sure that I really need a challenge anyway.

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What emotions look like

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I was thinking the other day how emotions sometimes creep up on a person, how they seem to come out of nowhere.  Suddenly one finds herself overwhelmingly attracted to someone, for instance, or some trivial incident leaves one extremely agitated for no apparent reason.

When one finds herself deeply in love it often comes as a revelation; one moment content in singularity and suddenly deeply connected to another.  Or, consider anxiety, how it can wheedle itself into your consciousness.  It lies in wait, bides it’s time until finding you at your most vulnerable, teases you with what in normal circumstances would be ridiculously mundane but now is horribly threatening.

It makes me think the ancients weren’t just being poetic when they personified emotions and that makes me wonder what these personified emotions might look like. Emotions, of course, aren’t simple; take love: it isn’t only erotic but can be love of beauty and wisdom or altruistic care for others. Does that make Love a multiple personality?  Maybe there are a whole team of Loves that travel around together. I think Erotic Love might look like Eve in the Garden; the original innocent lover and first mother. Anxiety I can see as a clown. He hides his true nature, presenting himself as something he’s not; a malevolent entity harboring one’s deepest fears.

But then, as I think about it, perhaps it’s the other way around.  Eve is the temptress, the cause of man’s downfall, the conspire r with evil; the clown is the innocent, timid, lover, his unrealized passion revealed in his attempts to please.

I guess it’s up to the individual to paint the picture with the colors she finds most appropriate.  I’m inclined toward the evil clown but I must admit it may be because I can’t get Pennywise the dancing clown from Stephen King’s ‘It’ out of my head.

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Illusions of Well-being

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According to the Romanian philosopher Emil Cioran a person would be better off not to have been born.  He determined suffering is the rule in life and there is absolutely nothing anyone can do about it.  All actions, he says, are or will be cause for regret.

The notion of well-being for Emil is an illusion that many people will harbor off and on during their lives but will in the end be unable to sustain.  Apparently Emil thinks it would be better to be, now, where he was before he was born-which is where he must be since he died some years ago.

Not having been born myself, rather, molded in plastic, I’m not sure how to think about Emil’s assertion.  I suppose he does have a point.  As far as I’m concerned my sense of well-being is dependent on the consideration of others, you know, to not step on me, keep me away from aggressive dogs (the ones that like to chew things up), and such.  And, how reliable can I expect that consideration to be; I guess there’s a faith aspect to any sense of well-being I might have.

As far as being better off being where I was before I was molded-in that vat of molten plastic-I suppose there is a sense of Oneness in that.

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Life imitates art?

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A friend and I were discussing the relationship between art and life the other day.  He told me he thought much of life can be described in terms of the movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail.  He explained the movie addresses how we create our own truths and manipulate events to suit our needs; how we harbor an inherent dislike of the other and make outrageous meaningless demands in order to demonstrate power over others, and how all this is part of our misplaced desire to achieve a heroic legacy.

Then he described some of the scenes that he thought supported his idea.  I liked the one when the knights are taunted by the French who catapult farm animals at them.  I found the scene where Arthur and his men are stopped by these strange knights who won’t let them pass through their lands until Arthur brings them a shrubbery pretty funny too.

I guess it all kind of made sense the way my friend told it and probably there’s some truth in his analogy, but after seeing the movie I think a better observation is that although we may do silly things sometimes and take ourselves too seriously once in a while there’s nothing more important in this world than a playful creative imagination.

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Meaning of Life

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Sometimes I wonder about the meaning of life; is there purpose in my existence.  Buddha says life is suffering; relinquish your desires to find the way to enlightenment.  The Dao says be frugal in thought and action and you will come early to the way which will allow you to immerse yourself in the flow and stay centered.

Maybe purpose has nothing to do with it.  Maybe I just need to live my life moment by moment, in the flow, on the path to enlightenment.  You know, wake up, smell the coffee.

I think there may be some self-discipline involved here.

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walking on water

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While checking out at the super market the other day I happened to glance over at the tabloids. On one, the cover story was, ‘Jesus doll walks on water.’  Usually I don’t pay much attention to these journals, the sensationalistic stories usually being so incredibly ridiculous, but this one caught my attention being about a doll and all.  So, I bought a copy and later when I had time, read that a young boy in Florida was playing with his Jesus doll beside a pond one day when the doll suddenly proceeded on its own impetus across the pond toward an old lady on the other side.  The doll, so the story related, moved up to and touched the old woman who was immediately relieved of the arthritic pain she had been suffering.  The doll then turned around and moved back across the pond to the little boy.

Wow!  There were pictures and everything.

As much as I enjoy a doll getting positive attention my skeptical nature questioned the accuracy of the account.  While dolls may certainly have independent natures, performing miracles, even for a Jesus doll, seems pretty incredible.  But, maybe where there’s a will there’s a way.

I think I’ll take a bath.

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Living Life to the fullest

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Seventh sphere 3It’s time to challenge myself…………..It’s not like I’m bored; I’ve plenty to keep me busy and interested…..I just feel like I need stimulation; something to force myself out of my comfort zone, expand my experiences and live larger.

I’ve been contemplating my options: sky diving, bungee jumping and rock climbing all have appeal but I’m deathly afraid of heights.  I could go the social route and volunteer in the schools or nursing home but with all those rammy kids or blind old people I could easily get stepped on.

I think I’ll offer myself for adoption at the Salvation Army.  I know it’s a serious risk: who knows what kind of situation I could get in to, but I could make some little girl happy and in addition meet some new dolls and people.  If worse comes to worse and I end up in a dysfunctional family I’ll just remember what Nietzsche said: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Playing the Game

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I feel myself falling into a rut lately.  The routine has become insufferable.  The days are passing painfully predictably: out of the box at 10, stand by the window, pose for a while, get leered at by that awful monkey and the other boring inanimates I am loathe to inhabit the studio with and, then, back in the box until morning when it starts all over again.  I won’t even go into the days I don’t get taken out of the box at all.  I’m feeling my life isn’t my own, that I’m simply a small cog in a big impersonal mechanism.

I guess Woody Allen’s right: all you need to do to succeed in life is show up….and play the game.  If only the bills needn’t be paid I would fly (figuratively speaking that is).

But certainly there’s relief to be had.  The Stoics recommend, when meaning in life is elusive, contemplating what it would be like if one lost what one had.  How much worse would it be without those small things we take for granted, like a nice cozy box……………..well, a cozy box is better than nothing.  I will try to be happy with what I have, the way things are…………….and I’ll sign up for flying lessons. discovering the mysteries 3