I’ve been thinking lately about the idea of one’s ‘first nature’, that time of youthfulness when the ‘new’ occurs daily, a time of pure experience, deeply felt, uplifting and thrilling in one instance disheartening and dispiriting the next, a time when one’s true self is revealed.
A time lost when only a few years later a ‘chain of events’ defines who one becomes: imposed responsibilities, social demands and the realization of a personal identity restrict imagination and limit possibilities. The infinite is made finite.
An existential loss unrealized until years later when, if fortunate, one is exposed to insightful youth who rekindle the fire, the magic of one’s ‘first nature’. A reason, I suppose, to interact with the young; a way to remember who one truly was.
I’ve been thinking lately about the nature of beauty: about how much determination of the beautiful relies on its fleeting existence.
Some might argue that art captures beauty in permanence, but I would suggest captured beauty relies on context: Michaelangelo’s virgin in his Pieta is beautiful in relation to her youthfulness and suffering. Generally, the beauty of young women relies on the ephemeral nature of their youthfulness. Similarly, determining beauty in the natural world relies on a subconscious realization of changing seasons.
Realizing beauty is an uplifting experience that might not be possible without an awareness of one’s mortality: our ephemeral existence.
Forgive me, if you will, for dwelling on the morbid but I can’t help thinking about the ultimate aftermath, what might be awaiting us after our final demise.
The fear most of us feel when such thoughts occur, I suspect, may be about facing the unfamiliar, leaving behind the faces, placers, environment, social connections that is one’s world. if we set aside the science of biological existence which seems reasonable from a spiritual perspective most any scenario is in play. Imagination would suggest intriguing possibilities for what might come next.
I’ve been getting quite a few ‘voice messages from God’ notifications on my phone lately. So far, I’ve resisted opening any of them. I can only assume such messages are ‘click bait’, attempts to draw me into something I’ll find irresistible, some super low-price offer on something I’ll be unable to pass up.
But what if it is a message from God: A warning of some sort that he (she) in his (her) benevolence wants me to be aware of for my own good, knowledge to ensure my well-being or provide safety to family or friends?
Still, I have to assume an omni-powerful deity would have a better means of communicating that through a 42 second message on my phone.
Having just had to go to the dentist for an issue with one of the few remaining teeth I have left has me thinking about my dental history.
At the age of twelve I lost my top four front teeth to a car dashboard (a time before seat belts). The partial dental replacement I got after that was held in place by wires around the molars, that, over the years, ate away at those supporting teeth eventually resulting in the need for an upper denture. Throughout my life I’ve become quite familiar with the dreaded root canal procedure that did preserve some of the lower molars for a while, but eventually the caps broke down and the teeth cracked.
I should, I suppose, appreciate the richness of my dental experiences; experiences that those with sound teeth never realize.
I’ve been reading about an ancient village site in the near east that archaeologists have determined to have been inhabited by a people practicing plant cultivation, pottery and other technologies 2000 years before what generally has been thought to be the beginnings of the agricultural revolution, which, I guess, disrupts the linear timeline science prefers to view as the progression of civilization. The finding suggests that some pre-historic groups chose the more sedentary lifestyle provided by agriculture while others opted for the less work intensive life of the hunter gatherer: that is domestication of plants and animals was not necessarily found to be the preferred choice of all people of time and place. The choice may have been about preferring egalitarianism to a developing hierarchy based on material accumulation. Maybe these forward thinkers might have seen how illness and death spread amongst sedentary populations exacerbated further by diseases caused by close contact with domesticated animals. In retrospect, in view of the ecological impact material accumulation has imposed upon us now, a simpler lifestyle was a good choice. Comfort and security, of course will always win out in the end.
i’ve been thinking lately about how one might imagine an after-life. Thinking about the idea of limbo is one possibility for some. Christianity as limbo as a place of waiting, a temporary stop-over that the unbaptized deceased will occupy for long time, maybe eternity. Inhabiting such a place would likely bring on chronic ennui seeing as there is little to no chance of travel options.
There are, of course, worse destinations; purgatory for one. On the upside one may escape purgatory but penance is demanded, a bit of suffering in payment for past sins required, but if one convincingly atones for past wrongs upward movement can occur and heaven may await. But any hint of lack of sincerity may result in eternal Hell.
Eternity seems to be the serious qualifier in these end-of-life scenarios and must certainly give pause to those entertaining thoughts of what happens next, whether or not certain preparations should be considered.
I’ve been reading that the political situation in America before the revolution was pretty chaotic. Over the previous 200 years (before the revolution) the population of indigenous people native to the eastern parts of the continent had grown knowledgeable of the immigrant culture, acquired the English language and European bargaining savvy. By consolidating various tribal groups in the common interest of securing their indigenous lands Native Americans fought back against the new settlers.
At the same time the various colonies established by the immigrant Europeans had disparate economic concerns, had trouble in presenting any sort of united front in opposition to the taxes and restrictions imposed by the imperialist English. The colonists’ ire manifested itself in attacks against their British overlords, destroying property and generally raising havoc.
The British found the slave trade quite lucrative, kidnapping thousands of native Africans from off their tribal lands to work southern plantations and to sell for household slaves. In some parts of the American south, the black population came to nearly equaling the white colonists in numbers. Enslaved Africans, like their native American counterparts readily adapted to the white culture and although suffering devastating reprisals rose in opposition to their enslavement adding further instability to colonial life.
At the same time wealthy colonists sought to acquire lands for themselves west of the Appalachian Mountains, a land-grab that pitted the colonists against the King’s Royal ownership of all American lands and further upsetting the indigenous population who knew for certain who’s land it was.
I guess we all know who the winners and losers were in these early power struggles. 250 years later, with guilty consciences, talking reparations for injustices perpetrated, we’ve hopefully come to realize the actions of the new immigrants of the time were less then purely heroic.
I’ve become aware, lately, that my verbal offerings, comments and responses, while visiting with others in small gatherings of family and friends, elicit responses I had no intention of eliciting; it appears that what I say is often interpreted in vastly different ways than intended. And this, even though I’m careful these days to withhold or at least moderate strong personal opinions.
When I was younger, I held small regard for countering someone’s opinion, relished, in fact, the opposition. But I don’t feel that way anymore. I hold back these days. But now It would appear that sometimes concessions are expected, admission of guilt, a desire for me to reveal my inadequacies, personal weaknesses: concessions I’m not willing to give. The whole idea of such a scenario I find extremely winceable, beyond my capacity to the point of exasperation.
If one is to maintain a sense of pride in achievement, a sense of worth, restraint must be exercised, emotions withheld; an acceptance of the potential volatility of personal relationships, a willingness to let go. It all becomes exitential in the end, I guess.
I guess no one really understands who or what we are. Researchers continue to find new infinitesimal entities, described as particles and/or waves that are the sub-atomic components of our material makeup. Well, ‘find’ is maybe the wrong word since these entities can’t be seen but only sensed by their movements. These entities existing within the primary forces of nature, electro-magnetism, weak/strong forces and gravity are the elusive quarks, bosons and leptons that complicate physical understanding. Physicists continue to seek mathematical structures that explain how everything fits together, to find a ‘grand unification theory’ but as new entities of enigmatic forms and behaviors are found the developing picture blurs.
Some prescient thinkers of the past warned of the travails of seeking a final answer, notably the philosopher E. Kant, in the 18th century no less, warned of pursuing that which is not adapted to our powers of cognition.
It would appear there are things we just can’t know.
deideismusings 