Tag Archives: philosophy

Accomplishment

by in art, art and commentary, drawing, humor, life, philosophy, religion and tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

I spent a couple of hours cleaning my Notre Dame playhouse the other day.  It was quite a mess; hadn’t been organized for some time.  I straightened the pews, relighted the votive candles, moved the priest from the sacristy to the confessional, replenished the Holy Water and separated the Brothers and Sisters (for some reason they always seem to end up together).  I did all the things necessary to put a cathedral in good order.

When I finished I considered what I’d done and thought it was quite an accomplishment-maybe not on the scale of actually building Notre Dame-but still it was something.

Wasn’t it?

Okay, so what does it mean to accomplish something?  Does accomplishment occur if no one knows about it?  And, as soon as someone finds out does judgment occur?  And, then, if the accomplishment is deemed worthy do accolades follow?  I doubt the Buddha meant, when he said to his disciples: ‘accomplishment is transient; strive unremittingly’, that they should pursue an ego boost.

The Stoics were pretty sure finding yourself in favor (which is certainly what would happen if people thought you did something good) wasn’t a good thing; once favored the only direction to go is down.

Well no one will probably know about my cathedral dollhouse cleaning anyway; it’s stuck back in a corner of the den.  People rarely come by now that little Bobby entered the seminary.

So I guess I needn’t fear recognition for my accomplishment.  But, I suppose I could take a few photos just to remember how nice it looks once it gets messy again.  But, then, someone might see the photos and nominate me for the Good Playhouse Keeping Award.  Then I’d be expected to keep it clean all the time and if I didn’t people would think I was a messy doll.

Boy, those old guys sure knew what they were talking about.

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Life Stories

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

Friends and I were sitting around the other day chatting over afternoon tea. Sister Chloe got into talking about the providential nature of her life: How God had seen fit to bless her with strong, supportive parents who had taught her right from wrong, follow the Golden Rule, do no harm and help others when possible and to follow the path that God had laid out for her.  She acknowledged God’s ways were sometimes mysterious and were not always easy to understand, like when her brother was left on the driveway behind the family car and subsequently ended up looking like Flat Stanley.  She questioned how God could let that happen but said she believes he must have had his reasons as he does for everything.

Well, Lala then proceeded to offer that she saw her life in quite different terms.  Fortune, she said, had been kind to her.  Following a particularly potent incantation her father had won the favors of a Toys-R-Us manager and ended up being featured in a toy exhibit which enabled him to secure a fine home for the family.  Even though the family had had their share of bad occurrences, mother having been purchased by a quite rowdy child and very likely ended up moldering in a damp basement her stuffing infested with centipedes and spiders,  cosmic justice had, for the most part, shined upon her and she hoped the stars would continue to do so.  She showed us an amulet she was wearing that came from her ancient ancestors.  She felt sure this would continue to protect her through the travails of life.

Then it was my turn.  I told them that my father was fond of telling us when difficulties arose that there was no reason to fear unpleasantness or worry about things because what would be would be and we had the freedom to make choices in our lives that would lead us, in all probability, provided they were wise choices, to a content and happy life.  I told them this advice had worked out pretty well, that I’ve always done well in school, able to overlook the prejudices of my human classmates and even the potentially devastating event of my aunt being lost in a family move (I think the dog carried her off and buried her somewhere) was met by us all with stoic acceptance.  I said that I was content in my ability to choose and felt comfortable letting each day unfold as it will.

Sister Chloe asked me how I can go about without faith in the existence of a benevolent overseer.  Lala asked Chloe how she could possibly believe her ‘Superman in the sky’ could care about the events in her life.  I asked how either of them could attribute future occurrences to the Supernatural.

As I poured our second cup of tea we all agreed it was time to change the subject.  We decided to talk about the weather.

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Karma

by in art, drawing, humor, life, philosophy, religion, skepticism, spirituality and tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

 

Hindu believers see existence as never ending; people are born into being, live their lives and die only to be reborn, hopefully into a better situation than they left.  Although, if they aren’t lucky or haven’t accumulated enough good karma they might end up as a lesser animal or even inanimate like a rock (or a doll).

The skeptic in me thinks they might very well have gotten this idea by watching plant and animal life cycle through the seasons year after year but who am I to question an age-old belief embraced by so many people.

So, when I look at some of the Hindu gods I have to wonder what kind of karma they accrued in their previous lives.  Take Ganesha: human body, elephant head and lots of arms.  The story goes he was born of Shiva and Parvati both of whom had lots of arms so that attribute may have been hereditary, but it certainly doesn’t explain the elephant head.

If we assume Ganesha accumulated, in previous lives, sufficient good karma to become a god then maybe an elephant head is superior to a human head; maybe Ganesha is further along the karmic path than anyone else.

I’m not sure how to think about my own karmic destiny.  Considering the present quality of my construction my previous life must not have been all that wonderful.  Maybe if I’m exceptional this life I’ll come back as …………….a Barbie?

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What I know about Soren Kierkegaard

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Kierkegaard’s dilemma was that despite his love for Regine he believed himself to be incapable of becoming a good husband, so to spare her he breaks off the engagement, telling her he was never truly serious about their relationship in the first place.

He wrote a lot about anxiety.  He says when we become anxious we are overtaken with fear and trembling as if we were on the edge of a precipice and were afraid of falling.  Then he says we should jump; take the leap into faith, embrace God for whom all things are possible.

He also tells us that either we shelter ourselves in the illusory belief that the individuals, doctrines and institutions we rely on for self-fulfillment are sufficient (bad) or we dismiss our worldly distractions, realize our declining physical bodies and face the existential horrors of life (good).

Whew!

I think he thought about things too much.  He should have just gone out and had a good time once in a while.

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Hypocrisy

by in art, drawing, humor, life, morality, philosophy, psychology, social commentary and tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

I was visiting with Granny Applehead the other day.  She was waxing nostalgic about her days in secondary school.  She remembers each day began with students rising from their seats, putting hands to hearts and pledging allegiance to the flag.  No one really questioned the validity of the activity back then but, she said, as she thinks about it in retrospect it was pretty clear there was strong intention to instill in young minds a religious sense of nationalistic propriety: America, land of the free and brave has God on her side.

She surmised it was easier back then when everyone was pretty well on the same page regarding God and country.  There were a lot fewer people asking the big questions.

I guess explanation can be found in the post-WWII politics of the times and dealing with godless Communism.  You know, prep these young minds for Holy Wars to come.

Social critique has tempered the blatant flag waving.  The mind manipulation of the young is subtler now but it’s pretty clear we still think of ourselves as being in God’s favor; ready and willing to impose our beliefs and life-style on the rest of the world.

Granny just shakes her head at what she sees as the hypocrisy of our self-perceived sense of fairness and equality for all: as long as everyone conforms to our values and beliefs.

On my way home I was thinking about what the world would be like if everyone was like me: skeptical seekers, always questioning, investigating the new, comparing the old, reaching toward the limits of one’s capabilities to find what may lay beyond.  As egotistical as it may sound, I can’t see that as being a bad thing in the least.

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Religion as Art

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I was reading a while ago about the Ban-Yatra, a Hindu pilgrimage which is performed in the Braj region of northern India.  Unlike many pilgrimages the ban-Yatra isn’t focused on reaching a sacred locale or the place of Holy Relics but rather is about uncovering the sacred in the profane as the pilgrimage progresses.

Braj is believed to be the birthplace and playground of Krishna.  Many of the stories of Hindu literature mention places and land forms here as sites where Krishna performed his miracles, cavorted with his cowherd friends and engaged in love-play with the Gopi’s and his beloved Radha. The pilgrimage involves circumambulating Braj, visiting shrines and temples and partaking in various rituals.

Unlike some eastern religious philosophies the worship of Krishna isn’t about renunciation of this world-denial of desire, but quite the opposite: realizing desire in the beauty of nature and celebrating the love of Krishna as being non-different from it. In order to do this the pilgrim cultivates bhava, an emotional and imaginative energy that allows him or her to see beyond the mere commonplace and experience the presence of Krishna in the natural surroundings.

One scholar suggests that in achieving bhava the pilgrim becomes like a poet creating meaning in the landscape as he or she passes through it.

Wow!  What a great observation. The artist certainly creates alternative worlds through imaginative emotive means; a significant parallel to the creative religious practice of the Ban-Yatra pilgrim. Maybe the difference between the two lies in just how literally one believes in the existence of this other world and its inhabitants. The artist, I suspect, is less likely than the pilgrim to embrace his/her imaginings as factually existent.

It seems to me religious practice in general could profit from a bit more creative play and a bit less dogmatic belief.

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The Joys of Doubt

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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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Sacred Images

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While reading about Byzantine Icons the other day I was amazed to learn that the painter, before he is able to paint one of these Holy Images, has to transcend earthly existence and enter the heavenly realm.  Apparently such a trip will instill the painter with the knowledge necessary to render a truly sacred image.

The resulting object is, only then, understood to be a Holy Relic and a living icon.  The holy personage thus rendered is seen as emanating the light of truth.  As I viewed some of these objects many did seem to have an inner glow.

Well, I had a friend do a painting of me in the style of the icon painters.  I don’t think his work was preceded by any voyage to the Great Beyond so I suppose the resulting icon is disqualified from the realm of ‘living relic.’

As I look at the finished product I can’t quite tell if my image expresses benevolence or self-importance-maybe a bit of each.  I suppose that might very well be consistent with the attitudes of the early church patriarchs who achieved sainthood. The painting does seem to emanate a sort of inner glow.  That may be because my plastic body is a bit translucent.

I showed the painting to the Barbies and they agreed unanimously it did nothing for me whatsoever.

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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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