Winter Doldrums

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.

BRIDGE REPAIR3

Who Are We?

Celestial Steven was waxing idealistic recently about the tenuous existence of humankind.  He said, that, early on-that is way, way back in time-cooperation among advanced sentient beings was primary.  An individual’s survival depended upon interaction with others.  On an individual level everyone was equal.

Problems, he said, began when the individual started identifying with a particular group; with group identification came conflict with others.  The whole process has continued to grow and fester into the sectarian, racial, and religious conflicts (not to mention the divisive social class distinctions brought about by economic inequities) we now experience.

So, Celestial Steven said, if we could re-establish the one on one or establish an egalitarian collective everything would be peachy.

Mini-Max, being an unapologetic pragmatic conservative, took immediate exception to this idea.  He said it is only human nature to desire the security of association with one’s own kind.  The social security and economic stability of such alliances brings about fair competition between groups resulting in innovation and invention that lead to affluence and raise everyone’s quality of life.

So, I guess what it comes down to is racing blindly toward self-destruction as we fall deeper into our tribal differences in the interests of more for us or waking up, over-coming our jealousy and fear of the other and moving toward a more egalitarian world.

Well, I think collectivity may be the way to go but I would hate having to give up my playhouse.

celstevminmax

Cultural Autism

I was thinking the other day about the significance of the temple guardian figures one finds at the entrances of eastern religious shrines and temples.  The guardian, I understand, is the symbolic protector of the sanctity of the sacred space; he stands as defender against essence or evil threatening contamination or dilution of the truth within.

For many, the temple (or church or other social or economic institution) embodies a culture with which they deeply identify.  So I got to wondering what would happen if that culture was compromised.  What would happen if our sacred cultural space(s) were invaded by a malevolence that convinced us the tenets we’ve always held to be irrefutable were in fact not only refutable but quite false; without merit of any sort?

Since so much of who we are, how we identify ourselves to ourselves and others is tied to these now discarded cultural tenets do we become ‘culturally autistic’-blank stare meeting blank stare as we pass on the street unable to relate in any way to our neighbors beyond basic physical functioning?

I’m really not too worried about this happening to us dolls as we’re pretty tightly united by our vulnerabilities.  Here in the playroom, we have managed to maintain our basic values even with a fairly steady influx of new and diverse members.  The rules we set for ourselves focus on maintaining a mutual respect for each other’s self-worth as well as a collective sense of strong group participation that leaves no one out.

So, I think we have pretty good control of the sanctity of our playroom space and I guess we probably don’t need a symbolic guardian figure although there has been some discussion about forming political parties.  Is two too many?

temple guardian3

The Post-Modern Man

I-Ron, the post-modern man, was telling me the other day he never misses church on Sundays even though he doesn’t believe in God.  He said he enjoys the company of the faithful while knowing he will probably never and, anyway, had no interest in experiencing the faith himself. Then, he said that, come to think about it, he didn’t really believe in anything particularly other than those immediate impressions that allowed him to go about his daily activities.

So, when he found out one of the members of his congregation had taken his own life recently and how unsatisfactory that action was in the eyes of the congregation and the church, all he could think of was the scene from Dante’s Inferno where the suicides are imprisoned in trees and are constantly pestered by the nasty Harpies landing on them, breaking off limbs and causing much pain and distress.

Although he felt a bit guilty about not feeling any remorse and pretending concern, I-Ron could only see the story as colorful and not the least bit disturbing.

Well, even though I do lean toward a moral relativity myself I had to feel a bit sorry for I-Ron; how can one really enjoy life without having strong moral feeling of any sort?  I wondered to what level of Hell Dante might assign I-Ron.

suicideand harpies

Dr. Freud and the Superego

Dr. Freud said if you have a strong superego it will help you subdue those baser instincts and depraved inclinations (which he called the id) and keep you on the straight and narrow.

I guess my superego must be pretty good because I’ve pretty much avoided participating in any of the seven deadly sins very much.  As I think about it, I’m pretty modest, my desires are nearly non-existent, I don’t eat very much, am generally pretty good natured and I really try to keep my room clean.

So I guess maybe I might be thought of, in all modesty, as a good role model for the younger dolls, you know, someone to look up to.  They might even find me admirable even saintly, after I’m gone; someone they can place on a pedestal as the paradigm of virtue.  And then maybe they’ll build a temple for me where I can be forever held in the highest esteem-even worshiped.  Maybe the Church will canonize me and actually make me a saint.

Boy, what a thought!  I wonder what Dr. Freud would say.  I hope he wouldn’t think I’m suffering delusions of grandeur.

temple of babydeidei

Why?

I was listening to my friends the other day discussing which of the big ‘W’s’ (you know, where, when, who, what, why) they thought was the most important.  The Barbies were clearly in the ‘who’ camp: who was the hottest celeb, who would the next bachelorette pick, who would ask them to spring prom.

IMac girl thought space and time to be most significant; when and where the next notable meteorological occurrences and/or ecological disasters would take place. Being of a social nature, she also was concerned with the where and when of the next Philosophical Society Social.

Tiny Tina could be forgiven for seeing the importance of the ‘what’ her parents and teachers would next demand of her.

Poor Pitiful Pearl (who is neither poor nor pitiful) suggested that all that really mattered was ‘why.’  With ‘why’, she offered, one can question the legitimacy of those social values that have led us to believe short-term popularity is important; with ‘why’ we can question the importance of our artificial time structures as well as the legitimacy of our subservience to those who render power over us; with ‘why’ Pearl said, we can eliminate superfluous concerns and find the path to our true natures.

Pearl’s argument pretty much fell on deaf ears.  The Barbies said they knew their true nature which was being the most popular girls in school; IMac girl said one’s true nature hardly mattered in relation to the immanent destruction of civilization as we know it and Tina said she might be able to overlook the demands of her father and teachers but her mother was simply not to be trifled with.

I felt like I had just witnessed a microcosm of the essential dilemma of doll-kind: It’s not simply that were not all reading the same page; some of us are making paper airplanes.

why3

Discord in the Playroom

Not too long ago three new dolls joined our playroom family. Muscleman and Bobble-head St. Patrick were the first to settle in and it didn’t take long before Muscleman began imposing his will, bullying the other dolls.  He was constantly jostling Bobble-head St. Patrick and causing the rest of us grief.

But then Athena showed up.

Scale can be very disparate among dolls and Athena has a considerable size advantage over most all the rest of us.  That fact plus Athena Parthenos’ warrior mentality quickly changed the playroom dynamic.

Muscleman, as you can imagine, has a very large ego and he initially refused to recognize that his days of domination were over.  Athena had to whack him down a couple of times before he got the message.  Even then he continued to yell and boss dolls around but eventually things settled down and Athena no longer needed to wield her physical size and strength to maintain the peace.

The playroom has always been, up until Muscleman showed up, pretty egalitarian.  Most everyone tolerates others’ idiosyncrasies without too much complaint.  But, the turmoil did get me thinking about how tenuous group dynamics can be-how opinions can form and change and political pressures can develop-what can happen when a strong personality feels compelled to impose its will.

Bobble-head St. Patrick is really quite a pleasant doll but he does have the reputation of being quite strong willed.  What if he suddenly got the notion to evangelize and got some (maybe a lot) of the other dolls to embrace his religious beliefs?  Would we all then be expected to follow the tenets of their beliefs?

And then there’s Mini-Max, who’s quite materialistic.  He’s been accumulating toys of his own for some time.  He’s already been hinting that he could use more shelf space.  What if he began bribing dolls-offering them favorite treats in order to acquire more room for his possessions?  Would the rest of us end up having to live in the closet?

Well, hopefully my imaginings are nothing more than just that.  But, it does make me think a just and fair judicial system is nothing to sneeze at.

discord in the playroom3

Dreams

I had a dream the other night in which I became human; or rather I multiplied into five human children plus my normal plastic self.  We were all standing in front of Notre Dame Cathedral.  St. Francis was there.  The human DeiDeis seemed sort of mesmerized-focused intently on their surroundings as if they were anticipating an imminent occurrence or contemplating some sort of action.

When I awoke the next morning I couldn’t stop thinking about the incongruities in the dream.  I wondered what Dr. Freud would say but then I figured it would probably have something to do with sex and considering the presence of St. Francis and young naked girls I thought it best to just leave that alone.

Then I remembered reading about Carl Jung’s idea that deeply embedded within our psyches are primordial forms or archetypes common and meaningful to all self-conscious beings.  Certain situations like the Hero’s quest or the fall from grace, dichotomies like good vs. evil and light vs. darkness, and character types like the evil figure, the scapegoat and the outcast are just a few of these common archetypes Carl believed we all share; and he thought that sometimes these forms crop up during sleep when our unconscious is in charge.

I had to wonder if there could be archetypal meanings in my dream.

Being generally pretty upbeat about things my first thought was the dream must be about rebirth or renewal.  In this sense the saint might be the archetypal magician or Christ figure who transforms me: the many mes representing naked innocence seeking and discovering goodness and truth.

But then as I thought about it further the pragmatic me took hold; my ambivalence regarding structured religion suggested a darker aspect; maybe the dream was about evil overcoming good.  The saint becomes the archetypal devil casting a spell and creating six of me (six being the archetypal number of evil) to carry out the vile edicts of a corrupt church.

Well, the investigation was all very fascinating and I do think Carl’s got something with his notion of collective subliminal meanings, but  I’m going to be pretty careful who I talk to about my dreams and their meanings.

dreams of freedom3

Spectral Visions

I’ve always been a huge fan of Edvard Munch.  The psychological weight he was able to express in his paintings is just amazing to me.  But, I guess when you think about his life it’s not too surprising his artwork is loaded with existential angst.

First of all, his mother died when he was five and his favorite sister when he was fourteen.  His mother’s death so upset his father that he developed extreme religious anxieties; he would tell Edvard and his sisters stories about the eternal punishments awaiting them in Hell.  On top of that, Edvard was often ill causing him to miss a lot of school meaning he got to spend even more time with his father.

By the time he reached manhood he was spending a lot of time drinking and fighting and generally being unhappy.  Then, he was shot in a struggle with the only woman he ever loved (other than his mother and sisters).

After that he suffered a nervous breakdown, nobody liked his paintings and things were generally pretty terrible, but he continued making art; recording the painfulness of his life and eventually people came around to understand the beauty of his work; how effectively his images capture man’s existential dilemma.

Things got better.  Norway built a museum to house his works.  They even put his image on a bank note.

It all sounds familiar doesn’t it: another story of a misunderstood genius whose strength of vision carries mankind to new insights that help people to better understand who they are?

I guess it’s a story with a happy ending even though there was a lot of suffering involved.

spectralvisions3

True Happiness

Pearl and Imacgirl got into a discussion the other day about whether one was better off and would be happier establishing firm beliefs or maintaining a healthy skepticism, you know, as a basic philosophy of life.

Imacgirl, the more pragmatic of the two, inclined as she is toward science, maintained greater understanding and happiness would be achieved by building on the core of established empirical truths methodically, the walls of which providing safety and security for the believer.

Pearl on the other hand, has a skeptical nature and is inclined toward unconventional explanations for what most would consider conventional wisdom.  She said doubting razes pre-established thought structures presenting unlimited opportunities.  Truth becomes an open question.  Walls disappear leaving one awestruck by the vastness of possibility and here, she said, is where true happiness lies.

My two friends were clearly at a stalemate so they asked me what I thought.  I guess it all came down to whether I would prefer the predictability of a life within the confines of common understanding or if I would throw caution to the wind, go where no doll has gone before and take my chances in the ethereal realm of the unknown.

Well, I told them that as much as I enjoyed abstract philosophical thinking what I really wanted to do was go for a walk in the woods, feel the breeze and listen to the birds. They decided to go along and eventually we all agreed that the experience we were having fit well with both philosophical positions.

eithoror3