Mirrors

I did a post over at my other blog.

"What the lover sees himself as wanting is his beloved. In this he is not mistaken, of course; the point concerns only why he loves her. That question the lover himself does not ask: immersed completely in the universe of love, its object is self-evidently its final cause. But if our object is to understand, the question 'why' obtrudes. The beloved attracts because she configurates the precise aperture through which being [the Infinite] can pour through to her lover in largest portions. Or change the image. Among innumerable pieces of quartz that lie strewn about the floor of a quarry it may chance that one alone bends the sun's rays at the exact angle that sends them toward my eyes. Doing so makes the quartz gleam. Yet it is the sun's light I see; were cloud to intervene, the quartz would turn to slag. So it goes: every emptiness we feel is 'being' eclipsed, all restlessness a flailing for the being that we need, all joy the evidence of being found."

--Huston Smith, Forgotten Truth: The Primordial Tradition (1976)

That image with the quartz really gets me, especially the idea of bending light at the right angle (also the image of the aperture). It seems that what determines the precise "angle" which is necessary for a person to perceive the Infinite in the most powerful and arresting manner is the result of, really, one's entire history--culturally, historically, emotionally, psychologically, one's language, personal experiences, family, body, karma, anything. Everything affecting everything else to allow one to perceive through this particular piece of quartz the shining bliss of the Divine.

Integration

"The task of all our knowing is to enable us to incarnate all that we tend only to believe is outside and independent of us."

--Bubba Free John

The logic of anger

I've been thinking more about Solomon's notion of the logic of the individual emotions (from The Passions: The Myth and Nature of Human Emotion, 1977). It clears up so much confusion I have had about various emotions for years, because it has shown me that the way I am accustomed to thinking, in my ordinary, calm state of consciousness, does not always follow the logic of the individual emotions. Understanding the logic of anger, for example, which is built upon assumptions and goals inherent in the emotion itself, helps me get to the bottom of anger, and helps me to better express it and learn from it.

By approaching an emotion like anger as something with its own inherent logical framework, I can no longer view it as simply "irrational" or otherwise misguided. Anger has a voice, and it wants to be heard.

As psychologist Charles Tart aptly points out, a "logic" is essentially arbitrary, in that it proceeds upon certain assumptions and carries them to their conclusions. Of course, certain logical systems are more conducive to physical and psychological survival, which is why we need to rely on them. But there is more to life than survival, and there are other logical systems, each with their unique sets of assumptions and conclusions. Christian theology is a logical system, as is the emotion of anger.

According to Solomon, anger's logic is very similar to the proceedings of a courtroom--the one angered is the judge, jury, and plaintiff, the person one is angry at is the defendant, and the verdict is undeniable guilt. Anger is tied up with issues of justice and fairness (excluding the different emotion of self-directed anger)--it is inherently intersubjective (involving other people). One's decision as to whether the guilty party is indeed guilty can only come from reflection upon the anger. Anger, in its essence, declares the other party completely responsible for the injustice or unfairness or insult or offense felt by the angered party, no questions asked.

A clear indicator of that the logic of anger is different in certain ways than one's logic when one is calm or content, is that one's thoughts proceed differently. If I observe my thoughts when I am quite angry, I will notice that the stream is different--I may be gathering evidence for the case (thinking of other things that person has done that has angered me, insulting them in my head, using words like "always" and "never"), I may be having an imaginary confrontation with the person in my head, I may be obsessively defending myself (because in anger I am the judge, jury, and plaintiff, it is crucial that I appear infallible, at least in this particular situation).

One value of anger lies in its motive to act (as with many emotions). I can reason about a social problem, with my "calm" logic, but if that reasoning is accompanied by anger, by the conviction of injustice, I am much more likely to act on the situation. Recognizing this helps me to give anger the respect it is due, and to learn to listen to it, but also to criticize its motives and assumptions in a given situation.

Limitations

"There is much talk today of expanding the scientific method to make it applicable to broader, more humane considerations. By directing this method to new problems, the scientific enterprise can indeed, within limits, be expanded, but not the scientific method itself. For it is precisely from the narrowness of that method that its power derives, so that to urge its expansion is like recommending that a dentist's drill be broadened so it can churn a bit of butter on the side."

--Huston Smith, Forgotten Truth: The Primordial Tradition (1976)

I think about this idea a lot--the power and necessity of limitations, boundaries. I see much of human growth and maturation as a discovering of and coming to terms with limits. The body has its limits, the ego has its limits, and it seems that everyone's limits are different. Part of the discovery is realizing that what was once perceived as a limit--for example, in the body's capabilities--can be expanded beyond one's previous conceptions. The same applies to the ego, the personality, and its capabilities. Part of the coming to terms, however, is recognizing the importance of limits, as Smith discusses above with regard to the scientific method. He suggests that science as a method for obtaining knowledge is limited, and thus should not be applied indiscriminately to all fields of knowledge. But the power of the method is inseparable from its limitations, and I believe this principle applies to many areas of human experience. Furthermore, just as the dentist does not try to accomplish everything with one tool whose capabilities are diffuse but instead works with a range of powerful and limited tools.

Still here

I'm still here. I have just been working on a long essay on sexuality for the past couple of weeks, so most of my thoughts have been diverted to that. But I hope to develop the ability to pursue that longer piece alongside other trains of thought, and return to posting here. So, I'm still here.