Radical Daffodils

Annoyed

2009-03-26T13:26:00.000-07:00

I wrote up a post about Transcendentalism and how my views do or do not match with those of the Transcendentalists and tied that in to my objections such as they are to wintry spirituality. I posted it on Tuesday.

Has anyone seen it? Because I'd really like it to come home so I don't have to remember everything I said.

Not up for a spiritual post this week, I guess.

2009-03-12T08:05:00.000-07:00

I've had this window open for four hours now, and haven't typed one damn thing.

Oh, I have ideas for posts: discussing the neo-pagan "In perfect love and perfect trust," or discussing why I don't pray "Coyote, you are here. Coyote, I am here." But I haven't really had any clear thoughts about what I want to say about either.

And, of course, there's the follow-up to last week's post about "wintry spirituality," but I'm not sure what I have to say on that topic, either. Not yet, anyway.

So, instead, I am typing up this post to say that I have nothing to say.

How very meta.

Some pondering about spirituality

2009-03-05T14:59:00.000-08:00

Prompted by the article Imagineers of Soul in UU World Magazine. Sort of.

Speaking specifically of UU children, the author says:

We teach them to be respectful of all the things we don't believe, but don't tell them what we do believe—in part because their teachers are not prepared to talk about such frightening, personal, delicate matters as spirituality. It's just too embarrassing.

Given the general subject of this blog, I suppose it's not going to come as a surprise to all two of you who are reading that I disagree with the last two sentences. I don't think we fail to discuss spirituality because it's "frightening" or "embarrassing." Personal, yes. Delicate, also. But I think a bigger problem is a lack of agreement about what it means to be spiritual, to have a spirituality to discuss in the first place. I also think that part of the problem is that we lack the language to express our feelings about the spiritual or the holy.

I often fall back on dictionary definitions when I'm writing these posts. I think that's because I feel that, on certain subjects, the only way I can be sure we're all on the same page is to start with an "agreed upon" term. Particularly when I want to use a word (like "holy") that solely belongs to the religious sphere, or that is perceived as belonging solely to the religious sphere.

I do not think we need religion, or G∞d or god or gods or goddesses or any sort of Divine Overarching (or Overbearing) presence to have a sense of the holy, using definitions six and eight back at the link. In this sense, I suppose it might be better to use the word "awesome," although as a child of the 80s I'm afraid awesome has rather been tainted, as well, though by secular rather than religious usage. Language is in flux and changes all the time, whether we like it or not. It's funny that way.

I have been awed by the majesty of the mountains, and awed by the destructive power of the natural forces that drove Mt. St. Helens. I have been in awe of courageous actions that I, myself, could probably not have taken. I have been in awe of some phenomenally stupid stuff that has been said. Awe does not require God or god or gods or goddesses, nor does "awesome" imply the same in the way that "holy" does.

Likewise, "spiritual" pretty much requires a belief in soul or spirit. I cannot think of any way in which it is used (with the possible exception of definition nine, and I seriously cannot think of a time when I've ever seen it used in that fashion) that doesn't at the very least imply a religion. I don't disagree with those who say they are "spiritual but not religious," I just think they're using spiritual in a new way. And I think that's because they have to; to my knowledge, there is no word in English that means "I believe that there are awesome things in the world, things that are full of worth and valuable, but I do not believe that anything other than natural forces made them." One of spiritual's synonyms is "immaterial," and I don't think anyone would go around saying "I am immaterial, but not religious."

I am willing to be educated on this point, of course.

And what I'm really looking for, anyway, is a word to use when I want to say there is something ~~incorporeal~~ intangible about me nurtured using other methods than the food and touch that nurture my body. Whatever it is that makes me, me, and not someone else. It's not incorporeal, this me-ness; I'm sure it's generated somewhere in the way my neurons fire, even if that specific center of "self" hasn't been found yet. In that sense, because a physical "self" hasn't been found, "I" am spiritual. Only I know that "I" am actually quite corporeal; that if there were no corpus doing all the awesome things it does every day that there would likewise be no "me" groping around in the dark for a term to use that doesn't rely on religion to give it meaning.

Which is all my long-winded, round-about way of saying that I think the author of the "Imagineers of Soul" is wrong. Those of us who don't already have the language to talk to our children about what we believe aren't afraid or embarrassed. No one has ever explained to us how we are supposed to explain what we believe. Without words with generations of weight and meaning, connotation and denotation, behind them, we are in a delicate position, because we have to talk around the concept we want but can never quite get there.

The author is right about "spirituality" (I don't know. What shall I call it? Intangible nurturance?) being personal. But that's true no matter whose spirituality we're talking about, really. Christians all basically agree that the Bible is the Word of G∞d, but they don't agree on who Jesus was, whether or not the Bible is the inerrant Word of G∞d, whether or not the Pope speaks using G∞d's voice...the list of disagreements goes on. I'm sure that similar schisms exist in Judaism, Islam, and Hinduism, but I don't know enough about those religions to speak in the same way to their points of contention. Even within the same church, these disagreements will exist. How much more, then, are such schisms likely to exist within a denomination that prides itself on its inclusiveness? And how are we supposed to speak to a confused child about what "we" believe? "We" don't believe the same things at all!

This might be a good time to consider using a method recommended by someone I know off-line: answer a question with a question. Although, when asked "what do you believe?" by a child, I suppose turning it back around on them with "What should I believe?" probably won't be very effective. Though I think the answers might be educational!

I had more to say about the article, specifically about "wintry spirituality," but I think this is quite long enough for now.

Stories and memory

2009-02-26T09:24:00.000-08:00

God made man because he loves stories. (In this form, by Elie Wiesel but possibly older.)

I don't believe in God, and the inherent sexism in the above quote bothers me but as it is a quotation written before concerns were raised about "man" as being a gender neutral method of talking about humans, I'll give Dr. Wiesel a pass. This time. Maybe. For now, anyway. I want to turn the sentence on its head, though:

Humans created God because they love stories.

Because I think this is much truer to the human experience. We love our stories; we tell them to ourselves and to others, we read them (when we can). Memory is the story we tell ourselves about our lives; how we frame our narrative - no matter how unconscious the framing - determines how we believe our story has gone and will continue to go. The stories we tell are who we become.

The truest memory is one we have not told ourselves over and over, because each time we re-tell a memory we re-work the neural pathways that hold that memory, and each re-working leads to a change. Nothing we remember is real, but everything we remember makes us who we are.

Only how can I say that? How can I say nothing we remember is "real?" What is real, anyway? If real is what we experience, what we know to be true, then memory is real, isn't it? Otherwise, we're all walking around inside a fake reality.

Oh, there's that paradox again.

Again, I say, memory is the story we tell ourselves. The dendrites in our brain that contain these memories are re-written when they are accessed. So yes, our memories are real in that they are not to be taken lightly and can be treated as fact, but they are not real as a completely 100% accurate replica of what we experienced. The human brain is not a computer, but a computer doesn't tell itself a story, either. Not the way we humans do.

We need our stories, not only for self-understanding but also for other-understanding (though, of course, the story someone else is telling themselves about the interaction we are having is undoubtedly different than the story I am telling myself about that exact same interaction). We need our stories to tell us what has happened. If memory is inexact at best, how can history be any better? History, after all, is the story of what was. And all we really have of what was are the stories that were told (yes, we have relics and artifacts and ruins that tell us that this object or city stood in this particular latitude and longitude, of course) and the necessarily flawed memories of those who lived through history. And all of this within the sign-signifier limitations of the language that constrains how we are able to communicate about our experiences, as well.

It is undoubtedly true, to use Santyana's words, that "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it." Not literally, of course, because we do not have an exact history, but the lessons we can take away from the themes and plots of the stories we are told, the stories we tell about ourselves.

And our divinities.

Not really a post about prayer, but a comment on how my day is going.

2009-02-25T15:01:00.000-08:00

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I cannot accept,
And the wisdom to hide the bodies of those people
I had to kill today because they pissed me off.
Also, help me to be careful of the toes I step on today,
as they may be connected to the ass that I may have to kiss tomorrow.

I may come back and discuss the "Serenity Prayer" at a later date.

Gratitude-to versus Gratitude-for

2009-02-18T08:02:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm back on this topic again. But it keeps coming up, from a post on Unreasonable Faith, to a discussion I had yesterday with a friend who told me that before she became a lapsed Catholic she used to spend her time praying "that everything would turn out okay," and post-lapse that if she prays it's a prayer of gratitude for a particularly beautiful sunset, the health of her children, or what have you.

I've already tried to establish that I think gratitude is a worthwhile practice. I think it's good to stop and take a moment or two or ten to take a moment and recognize what's good around you. The thing is, though, I don't think that gratitude of necessity has to have an object.

As I see it, there are two kinds of gratitude: Gratitude to, and gratitude for.

Gratitude to in its very phrasing implies an object; one is grateful to one's parents for providing food and a roof over one's head when one was a child. One is (or should be) grateful to the firefighter who saves one's house. One is also grateful for the things that one has reason to be grateful to someone about, of course, or there would be no point in being grateful to.

Gratitude for, however, does not necessarily imply an object of that gratitude. I can be grateful for the beautiful view when I drive up into the mountains, grateful for the mountains I perceive as a peaceful place, but just because I am grateful for these things does not mean I am grateful to anyone or anything for providing them. Grateful for the dynamic processes that drive the natural world, perhaps, but it seems a bit absurd to be grateful to the dynamic processes that drive the natural world. They don't care, and thus my gratitude would be wasted upon them.

So much for regular updates

2009-02-17T12:29:00.000-08:00

Over on Google Reader, my friend Artslave asked me for my thoughts on this article from BoingBoing: "Show us your saints."

There's just one problem with this request. I don't have saints, and I don't really connect with the idea of saints. This is probably due to my having grown up in a very Protestant household (although these days my mother has said to me that she doesn't want a religion that tells her what to believe, and my father has always been a "Deitist"), where the whole idea of needing an intercessory presence to talk to God was not looked upon with favor. And yes, I see that the person on BoingBoing is talking about the saints as teachers, but even then I have trouble wrapping my mind around the whole idea.

Which is posing me a problem, since I do believe that there is something of the divine in every person (Yes, even ~~Hitler~~ ~~Fred Phelps~~ whatever dictator or unpleasant person you're thinking about. The gods are not always nice people). I suppose I have trouble with the idea that somehow the people we call saints are more special than the rest of us (just as I'm starting to have trouble with the idea that certain dates are more "holy" than others). And I think that comes back to "Everything is Sacred, and Nothing is Sacred."

Another trouble I'm having with this post is that, although there are people who both inspire and terrify me (Neil Gaiman, Ray Bradbury, Salvador Dali, Freda Kahlo, Leonard Bernstein, Frederik Chopin, Sir Ian McKellan, and that's the short list), the bulk of the people I would call my "teachers" are not distant figures, meaningful to many people, but are people I know and have interacted with on an intimate level. Two UU ministers, and one person who I think has finally obtained her M.Div. but I'm not 100% certain. Two of the lay ministers I worked with at a former church. The friend who is a professor at a university. The friend who has been unfailing in their support over the years. My parents. My sister. People I work with and interact with on a nearly daily basis, or did when we were proximate (sadly, I have lost touch with one of the two ministers, and have fallen badly behind on my correspondence with all the others).

I guess I find it easier to learn from people than from texts; and the distance between me and the people I list up there in the parentheses kind of renders them into texts rather than people.* By this I mean that I "read" their actions as reported by themselves or by others in much the same way that I read a book, aware that I'm interpreting what I see through my particular filter. People I've been face-to-face with, I know their flaws. They're "real" in a way that someone who I know only through their work can never be. Not in a Velveteen Rabbit sort of way. I learn from them in the way they are with other people, both good and bad, and from what I have seen in their lives and how I see them deal with events. I sometimes wonder if I didn't initially think I should become a minister because two of the strongest influences on my thinking have been ministers; but then the other influences are mostly teachers in a more literal way, as well.

In any event - I don't have "saints," but I do have teachers. And I learn something new every day.

*It is not out of the realm of possibility that I could meet and befriend Gaiman, Bradbury, or McKellan, but suspect the odds are not in my favor. Although I do follow Gaiman on twitter. The others, unless time travel becomes a possibility, pretty much no.)

Not exactly a prayer - a benediction? A blessing?

2009-02-11T08:02:00.000-08:00

Only not really a benediction or a blessing, either, in the way that "May you live in interesting times" is not really a blessing.

For a time, I participated in a CUUPs group, and many rituals. One of the parts of the ritual that I often found quite moving came toward the end. A plate with some food was passed around (usually some fruit, and usually grapes), and each person was to feed the next person in the circle while saying "May you never hunger." (In the group I was in, it was acceptable to hand the person the piece of fruit if either party was uncomfortable with feeding or being fed.) Likewise, a cup of non-alcoholic substance was passed with the message "May you never thirst."

I said, once, that should I ever marry I would like this to be a part of the ritual. Now, however, I'm not sure.

I got to thinking about this last night, and came to the conclusion that maybe it isn't a good thing to wish that someone never "hunger" or "thirst." I realize, given the context of the words in the ritual, that what is being banished is physical hunger that can be sated by food, and physical thirst that can be sated by drink. And yet there are so many hungers and thirsts, not all of which are necessarily negative. A hunger for affection. A thirst for knowledge.

Of course, when one hungers or thirsts for something, it does imply that something is missing from one's life. On the other hand, that hunger or thirst can drive one to seek that which is missing. We are meant to have appetites, after all, and to deny those appetites is really not very healthy.

Although I do wish any reader never hunger for food and never thirst for drink, I do not wish away other hungers or thirsts that drive one's "free and responsible search for meaning."

Updates

2009-02-04T10:34:00.000-08:00

I was going to try to update this blog weekly, but I hadn't a prayer for last week and haven't one for this week. Not that I think anyone's reading me, but if you'd like to make a suggestion in the comments feel free.

The Prayer of St. Francis

2009-01-14T09:54:00.000-08:00

Original:: Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Godless Variant: Make me an instrument of peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.

May I not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in loving that we are loved.

(Yes, that last line should be "and it is in dying that we are dead." Although that may be factual, it's not exactly uplifting.)

Comments/Personal Take:: Although there's nothing wrong with the original version of this prayer, and certainly it would have made sense to St. Francis to pray to a dominant God, I really like the godless version better. I don't think there's anything in there bad to ask (the Universe, one's self) for. Except possibly "Where there is doubt, faith." There's nothing wrong with doubt, after all; doubt leads to asking questions, which in turn leads to deeper answers. Faith has its place, I think, but I don't think its place is in the removal of doubt.

I also prefer the godless version because it gets rid of master/vassal language. I think another interesting way to modify this prayer might be to remove "Oh Lord" and change "Divine Master" to "Divine servant." If we're going to keep god in the prayer, this change also changes the relationship between the speaker and god.
How I use it (if I do): I don't. For one thing, I don't have the patience to memorize this prayer, and I always feel a bit odd reading prayer out of a text while in sacred space.

Gratitude

2009-01-14T09:47:00.000-08:00

Thank you.

Comments:: Well, this one's pretty straightforward, isn't it? One says thank you as a way of expressing gratitude. It's not much thought of as prayer, though depending on context there's no reason it couldn't be.
Personal Take:: Much like "I am here. You are here," the "you" in "Thank you" need not apply to anything divine. Perhaps it is the simple thanking of the world for being here, of the universe for being habitable (or beautiful).
How I use it (if I do):: Well, this one I've been experimenting with. So far, I haven't managed to remember to say or think it upon waking up in the morning. I have, when I remember, been thinking "thank you" before each bite of food I take in gratitude to the plants and animals that gave their lives so that I can sustain myself. Mostly my eating has slowed down, although pausing to say "thank you" does have the side effect of encouraging me to savor my food. I likewise have only remembered about half the time since I started this to say "thank you" when going to bed at night.

This I Believe: Coyote Commandments and Everything is Sacred and Nothing is Sacred

2009-01-13T15:25:00.001-08:00

So, as part of my "give me suggestions for Holidailies" post, I was given "Coyote's Commandments." After asking for clarification, because you have to admit that's a little vague, I was told that the person in question wanted to know about living with "Coyote," what the Commandments are or I perceive them to be, those sorts of things. Great, I think to myself. An easy topic.

Sigh.

Truth be told, though, Coyote-as-presenting-to-or-from-me isn't exactly the Trickster God most people think of. Coyote is not Webster Kitchell's Coyote, anthropomorphic and Warner Brothers-influenced in a purple zoot suit. And in any event, and other people's posts aside, that Coyote isn't really the sort to hand down Commandments. Coyote-as-presenting-to-or-from-me (hereafter "Coyote" because I'll get tired of typing all that crap) does in fact have four feet and fur (and, as a side note, is usually female). The communications we have had, inasmuch as we have had conversations, have all involved me speaking and Her responding through body language (including typical and easily recognizable canine body language such as play-bow). So, definitely not the type to give Commandments, and they would be Commandments that I would have to interpret, anyway.

I've mentioned before on my LiveJournal that I've done my research into Tricksters in general and the Trickster I've been saddled with in particular, just to see what I can learn. I've also done a lot of nature reading about coyotes to learn what I can about them. And that's largely where I take lessons from. Coyotes (the animals) are an awful lot like humans in some of their underlying instincts (not in an anthropomorphizing sense, although what I'm about to do is anthropomorphize to a certain extent).

Some things I've learned from studying books about other people's studies of coyotes, and also from my own occasional encounters:

Be Curious. In Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Qveene, Britomart encounters the inscriptions: Be Bold. Be Bold. But not Too Bold. while in the enchanter's castle, and in some ways I think this is a very similar thing. Coyotes in the wild are curious about changes in their environment - a sensible way to be, when you think about it - but they are also cautious about exploring whatever has roused their curiosity. I took some video once of coyotes in the Los Angeles Zoo whose cage had just been cleaned, and their water refreshed. Both coyotes were skittish and nervous, but neither could resist the lure of exploring the "new" water in their cage - in fact, one of them became deeply fascinated with some foam that had been created, and spent several minutes examining it, playing with it, jumping away from it, and in the end trying to "coax" it back to him when it had drifted too far from the edge for him to be able to examine it any further (without swimming).

For me, curiosity leads to being engaged in the world. It leads to learning things that I didn't know before, or finding new uses for things I already knew. Curiosity leads me to a deeper sense of wonder, and is part of the reason I am so fascinated with magic (both prestidigitation and the mystical kind) and mystery (whodunnit, how does it work, and the mystical kind). I think that our sense of curiosity is so critical to understanding the world around us, our place in it, and how to interact with each other, and I'm saddened by the way I have seen it crushed in some people. To me, Curiosity is a virtue and is also something "worthy of respect or dedication" - something sacred. But curiosity can lead to change, and that leads me to:

Do not change lightly. Coyotes in the wild do not like changes in their enviornment, though they will adapt to them. Change is necessary, yes, but change can also be dangerous. A minivan in the middle of a coyote's territory (as in Hope Ryden's book God's Dog: A Celebration of the North American Coyote) could be a threat: hunters setting up, or it could be (as it turns out to be in the book) just a researcher so determined not to disturb the coyotes that she pees in ziploc bags to hide the smell. Either way, though, it pays the coyote to be cautious, and so they are.

I adapt this lesson in ways that are pertinent for me: I do not reject change out-of-hand, but I do consider the value of a change before I accept or make it. I've been changing a lot, lately, and I accept that change is inevitable, but I also accept that change is difficult and uncomfortable and potentially dangerous and that I do not have to like it. In fact, the question is not "am I going to like changing?" but "is this change worth the discomfort it will cause me?".

Tend to your pack. Coyotes, like wolves, tend to pack up, though coyote packs are generally much smaller (usually one alpha couple, one or two juveniles, and any pups from the senior pair) and do not perform coordinated hunting. Just like any other pack animal, their politics of who's on top and who has responsibility for what can get very complicated and seem incomprehensible to the outside observer. It is not known for sure whether or not the juveniles seen in coyote packs are necessarily older pups from a previous mating of the alpha pair.

Either way, though, they tend to each other. I think the lesson I take from this is pretty straight-forward, although related to this is a form of "know your place" that has less to do with knowing who has power over you than understanding your purpose within the pack and that I need to think through a little further before I can "verbalize."

Accept help where it is offered; do not reject others just because they are different from you. Coyotes have been known to eat badger cubs. Likewise, badgers will snack on a coyote pup if it is available and they are hungry. And yet coyotes have been known to hunt with badgers: the coyote (or badger) sits at one end of a mouse/prairie dog tunnel and the badger (coyote) digs at the other end until the prey animal pops out of the ground practically in the waiting animal's mouth. And they take turns at this. It's been observed (but I don't remember which text this is in, sorry).

This amuses me, but it also points up that even if someone else will eat your babies it doesn't necessarily mean that you can't work together for a mutually beneficial end. If that's the case, there's no point in rejecting someone else just because they believe/act/look differently from you. Now, if you catch them eating your babies, (or preferably before) that's different. (This also has a lot to do with my feelings about the UU First Principle, but that hasn't anything to do with Coyote.)

The purpose of most (but not all) Trickster Tales seem to be to point up where the boundaries are: don't be too proud, or you'll trip and find yourself in the dirt. Pretending to be someone or to know something you're not could lead to your death. Don't stretch your penis out to have sex with girls on the other end of the pond, or it'll get lopped off when one of them thinks it's a snake.* The Trickster steps over the boundaries, and sometimes gets away with it, but most of the time doesn't. So I guess the message I take away there is mind the boundaries, even when you're crossing them, or else be really inventive about your reasons for crossing them.

Then, finally, there's something mentioned around the web and in books I've read about Coyote Wisdom being Everything is sacred, and Nothing is sacred. Everything is "worthy of respect or dedication," and nothing is "worthy of respect or dedication." This resonates with me, in ways that I just cannot adequately explain, but I'm going to try.

Everything is sacred. All that is known is worthy of respect or dedication, from the act of defecation to, I dunno, the Universe itself. Every thing. The air we breathe, the people we talk to, the ideas we come up with, the bum on the street, the concept of The United States of America, the dirt, the earthworms, Rwanda, jam on toast, all of it. What does it mean when every thing is worthy of respect or dedication - does "sacred" then come to have no meaning?

I don't think so. If everything is worthy of respect or dedication, then everything needs to be treated properly, in the manner most proper for its enjoyment, preservation, or use. It is a tragedy when anything is destroyed, when anyone dies. The death of an antelope at the fangs of a pack of lions requires the same respect and honor that was shown at the death of [insert important person here]. Human life is not the most worthy of respect on the planet; it is only one of all things that requires our respect and dedication. Working in the garden is the same as going to church or participating in ritual. Every thing is important. Every thing requires dedication.

Nothing is sacred. None of what is known is worthy of respect or dedication, from the act of defecation to, I dunno, the Universe itself. No thing. The air we breathe, the people we talk to, the ideas we come up with, the bum on the street, the concept of The United States of America, the dirt, the earthworms, Rwanda, jam on toast, none of it. What does it mean when no thing is worthy of respect or dedication - does "sacred" then come to have no meaning?

Of course it does. If nothing is worthy of respect or dedication, then it doesn't matter how we treat anything, regardless of the manner most proper for its enjoyment, preservation, or use. It is a fact that things are destroyed and everyone dies. The death of an antelope at the fangs of a pack of lions requires no more respect or honor than is shown at the death of [insert important person here]. Human life is not the most worthy of respect on the planet, it is only one of all things that do not require our respect and dedication. Working in the garden is the same as going to church or participating in ritual. No thing is important. No thing requires dedication.

The tricky part here is the "and," because it requires me/us to hold both these contradictory concepts at the same time. Coyote Wisdom does not say "or." That would be much easier - pick one, and be done with it. No: it both matters and doesn't matter how we treat things. An individual death both does and doesn't deserve to be honored. The following statement is true. The preceeding statement is false.

How, dare I say it, paradoxical.

And yet. And yet life is a series of paradoxes: statements or propositions that seems self-contradictory or absurd but in reality expresses a possible truth. And that, in the end, has a lot to do with how and what I believe. Life is not simple, it is complicated, and yet it is not complicated, it is simple. Life is what it is; life is what we make of it.

Richard le Gallienne wrote of Oscar Wilde (a person who has my respect): Paradox with him was only truth standing on its head to attract attention. I'm not sure what this quote has to do with anything, and yet somehow, it seems the most appropriate place to end this tediously long post. Congratulations if you made it through to the end.

*This is now going to be the take-away message from this post for 95% of you, I just know it is.

My chosen prayer

2009-01-07T11:31:00.000-08:00

Spirit, I am here. Spirit, you are here.

Comments:: Adapted from "God, I am here. God, you are here." I don't see any particular reason why one couldn't simply pray "I am here. You are here." You does not have to mean a greater being, though in Christian prayer it certainly is understood to imply "God." But most human languages include a variation of the word "you" meaning "not me." And there is in the world that which is me, and not-me, and (although this point can definitely be argued) both are here.
Personal Take:: Spirit to me implies that which is both without and within me, the whole of the world. Not necessarily anything magical, though definitely "spiritual" by its very nature. In considering it, "Spirit" could easily be replaced in my variant of this prayer with "wholeness" or "everything" or even "not-me."
How I use it (if I do):: I repeat it as a mantra, particularly when I am doing yoga and when I need to quiet my restless mind so I can get to sleep or intensify my focus

Repeated from Livejournal and Holidailies: The UU First Principle and Pick-A-Dictator

2009-01-06T10:31:00.000-08:00

A post in which I am afraid I will not be making new friends and will manage to alienate people, not to mention the imminent Godwinization* of this post.

First of all, let's look at the UU First Principle:

Unitarian Universalist congregations affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every person

And now, for some definitions (and I want you all to know that I'm resisting a few words, like "and," although the troublemaker in me wants to define them, too. All definitions from the OED, though I'm not copying them wholesale):

affirm:: 4)To make a statement and stand to it; to maintain or assert strongly, to declare or state positively, to aver.
promote: 2.a. To further the growth, development, progress, or establishment of (a thing); to advance or actively support (a process, cause, result, etc.); to encourage: d. To publicize or advertise (a product, organization, venture, etc.) so as to increase sales or public awareness. II.To put forth, move forward; 3. To publish, promulgate; to assert, advance.
inherent: 2. Permanently indwelling.: 3. Existing in something as a permanent attribute or quality; belonging to the intrinsic nature of that which is spoken of4. Vested in or attached to a person, office, etc., as a right or privilege.
worth: 2. The relative value of a thing in respect of its qualities or of the estimation in which it is held.: 3. The character or standing of a person in respect of moral and intellectual qualities; esp. high personal merit or attainments.
dignity: 1. The quality of being worthy or honourable; worthiness, worth, nobleness, excellence.

So those of us who are UUs or who find value in the principles and sources thereof Assert and further the growth or publicize the permanently indwelling 1) relative value or character of a person in respect of moral and intellectual qualities, and 2) the quality of being worthy and honorable that is found in every person.

There are enough complicated concepts there to keep a thealogian or an ethicist going for quite a while in just that statement alone. But I'm actually not going to pursue any of that. I'm not even going to talk about trying to live up to this principle.

No, I'm going to talk about, well, ~~Hitler~~ Fred Phelps (There. Now I've Godwinized the thread).

Because whenever I start explaining the Seven Principles to people, someone inevitably asks how to apply the First Principle to Hitler. Or Pol Pot. Or Stalin, or Osama bin Laden, or Kim Jong-Il, or (on a much less global and more personal level) Bill Clinton or George H.W. Bush, or Peter LaBarbera or James Dobson or Fred Phelps, or, or, or. Pick your poison, as it were. How is it possible to affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of those people?

I'm not sure I have an answer. I really admire the question, though, so let's look at it just a bit.

No, instead, I'm going to digress for a moment, and ask all y'all to go over and watch Jay Smooth explain how to tell people they sound racist. Go on. I'll wait.

You'll notice that, essentially, his argument boils down to approaching what a person said or did as different from what they are. Now, the kinds of people we're talking about who come up in a First Principal discussion? These people did, have done, or are doing horrible things. Essentially unforgivable things. Things that I am in no way condoning or promoting. But I think ol' Jay up there has a point that can provide a partial answer to how do we affirm and promote [Fred Phelps'] inherent worth and dignity.

We separate all the horrific things that he did, from what he is (a person). No, it's not easy. No, I'm not actually advocating forgiveness. No, I don't ever want there to be another [Fred Phelps] in the world. He's still a person. A person who neither affirms nor promotes the inherent worth and dignity of every person, but a person nonetheless. Not one of "them," because there is no "them." One of "us."

But that's uncomfortable (hell, it was uncomfortable for me to type!). It's easier to break the world into "us" and "them." To focus on the difference or Otherness of another person, to deny "them" their basic personhood. And here's the really uncomfortable thing: by dividing the world into "us" and "them," and by not considering "them" to be part of "every person"? That, right there, on a very small scale, is what we see represented on the larger scale by those people I listed up there whose actions make their inherent worth and dignity open to question.

So what do we do about it? Is it possible to live in a way that affirms and promotes the inherent dignity of every person?

I really don't know if it's possible. I try. I like to tell people who ask me about the UU Principles that I'm still working on the first one, and that I think the other six kind of flow from it in the way that I see "Do unto others as you would have done unto you" flowing from "Love your neighbor as yourself". None of these injunctions are easy.

But then, life's a process. We try and live up to our ideals, and when we fail (in small ways) I think it's okay to acknowledge we made a mistake, forgive ourselves, and try again. We either will or won't find out how we did overall when we reach our final destination.

*Inquiry: is a thread Godwinized if you're not comparing the Nazis or Hitler to anything/one but themselves?

** Also,

Unitarian:: A person who believes they are too good to be damned; a believer in the Unitarian heresy [those Christians who reject the Holy Trinity];
Universalist:: A person who believes that God is too good to damn them; a believer in Universal Salvation;
Unitarian Universalist:: A person who may or may not believe in God or Gods or Bob or the FSM, but who gathers together on Sundays to have coffee and disagree with the Minister's sermon. [Yeah, my elevator speech sucks])

Musings

2007-09-07T12:52:00.000-07:00

In a world with so much hatred and violence, We need to proclaim the inherent worth and dignity of every person. In a world with so much brutality and fear, We need to seek justice, equity, and compassion in human relations. In a world with so many persons abused and neglected, We need to accept one another and encourage one another to grow. In a world with so much dogmatism and falsehood, We need a free and responsible search for truth and meaning. In a world with so much tyranny and oppression, We need to affirm the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process. In a world with so much inequality and strife, We need to strive toward the goal of world community with peace, liberty and justice for all. In a world with so much environmental degradation, We need to advocate respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part. In a world with so much uncertainty and despair, We need hearts that hope and hands that serve.

- Original by Scott Alexander, discussed widely on the UU blogsphere (and if someone could provide me a link, anywhere, to one of those discussions that would totally rock); modified by me after discussion in my livejournal (locked, unfortunately).

Several people responded to my original post suggesting that such statements should not necessarily focus on religion, and they're right. I've taken out all the references I could find to religion in the above statement, and it works just as well without them.

I find it interesting that I did not think anything of the exclusionary use of "religion" in the original statement because it was my religion (which I know to be welcome to pretty much all regardless of atheism, agnosticism, Heisenbergism, henotheism, polytheism, or other-theism, though there's always some debate within the community where any or all of those groups feel kind of on the outside looking in). Had this been a statement of sorts from another religious tradition, I would like to think that I would have been more aware, though I'm not entirely certain I would have. And that's a sobering thought; I think that religion, like anything having to do with people, has its positive and negative facets, but I also think that it's entirely possible to be a moral, happy, (mentally and physically) healthy human being without needing religion to fall back on. And I'm expressing that poorly on a number of fronts, please feel free to correct me as needed. I know what I mean, but I'm finding myself limited in ways to say it that won't offend someone.

I miss being a part of a religious community, because I miss having the once a week company of other people and the words of the minister to ponder over whether or not I agreed with what zie had to say. I think in some ways, when I go to church, I go for the reason Rev. Tittle says atheists go to church: to "...come together to make meaning of our lives and this troubled world, by making both better." I miss it, and I wish my local UU Fellowship and I were a better fit. I periodically think about spending Sunday morning worshiping with the Quakers, but although it is satisfying in its own right, it isn't exactly the same thing.

But I don't need religion or a faith community to tell me what's right or to encourage me to try and "...make both better." Nor does anyone else. I think, with a very few exceptions, that deep down we know what's right and what's just; I also think that it's easier to be part of a group all tending the same way than to go it alone. For some people, that reinforcement comes from other members of their faith community; for others it may be a strong internal push; others may find it in their work in non-faith based communities. I don't have to belong to a church - any church - to volunteer to help others, to speak out against injustice. Despite what some folks will tell you, no one does.

But, for some people, it's easier to act as part of a group. And that's okay, too.

Not that I think much of anyone reads this blog

2007-08-31T15:34:00.000-07:00

However, on blogday, I would like to recommend that anyone who stumbles upon me here check out the following folks:

Dogemperor's Daily Kos Diary on the activities of Dominionists and why they do what they do. An often depressing read, but dogemperor also offers suggestions for how to make positive changes in the world.
Sexuality and Religion: What's the connection?, an excellent blog that's pretty much exactly how it describes itself. Ref. Haffner, who is the author of the blog, recently went head-to-head with Bill O'Reilly on the subject of youth sex education.
Don't eat alone. I can't quite put my finger on what it is I appreciate about this blog, but I'm always delighted when I read a new post, whether or not I agree with the blog author.
Looking for Faith. A blog largely from a UU perspective about looking for faith - how do we look for it, how can we look for it, what does it mean to be looking for it. Another one I always enjoy reading, even when I disagree with the author.
I'm going to sneak two in for my "last" one:
Talk To Action and Street Prophets. Talk To Action subheads itself "Reclaiming Citizenship, History, and Faith"; Street Prophets' subhead is "Faith and Politics." Both blogs are largely, though not totally, interested in keeping church and state separate and report on instances where that wall is crumbling. Street Prophets seems a bit more faith-focused; Talk to Action more on the political side. In conjunction, the two make for an interesting read.

There are of course many more bloggers that I read and think you should too, all one or fewer of you who read me. But these are the ones I feel like highlighting today.

Enjoy!

Oh, yes

2007-05-01T12:38:00.000-07:00

It's May, it's May, the lusty month of May...

Merry Beltane. I must remember to go home and light my candle that houses Brighid's fire tonight.

Today's Musings

2007-05-01T12:22:00.000-07:00

I'm perusing my bloglines account and saw this post on "A Minister's Musings." I think I may want to expand the thinking I expressed in the comments, but right now my knee aches and I'm just not in the mood for deep thinking. The t-shirt mentioned in that post:

"I have the body of a god. Unfortunately, it's the Buddha."

Like many things, this "saying" is a jumping-off point for a discussion of body image. Why is having the Buddha's shape (or, more accurately, as pointed out by RevWik, Hotei's shape*) automatically "unfortunate"? If it's the body of a god, doesn't that imply a sort of "greatness" to that body? I could probably come up with a handful of myths where the god's body failed them in some way, but it would take some work. Fenris Wolf biting off Tyr's hand doesn't count, either.

All in all, it reminds me of another t-shirt about which I have similarly ambivalent-leaning-toward-positive feelings: "I'm in shape. Round is a shape."

Well. It certainly is.

* This is not the best link in the world, but as mentioned above I'm really not in the mood to go poking around just at the moment.

In the beginning

2007-04-29T10:25:00.000-07:00

Was the Word, or so one group's holy book says. There will be words to come, here, just as soon as I figure out what purpose those words will serve.