It's Elemental

Category: Photography

  • Stuff on my porch.

    Stuff on my porch.

    Spring in Portland is great, even if you don’t leave your own porch…

    [flickr-gallery mode=”photoset” photoset=”72157626856090388″]

  • Portland Japanese Gardens

    It’s been a while since I’ve posted here.  I’m working on my dissertation and hopefully I’ll post some bits when I feel they are polished enough.  In the meantime, my sister is visiting from Durango and we had a great time at the Portland Japanese Gardens.  It rained (expected), showed (whaaaat?) and sunned (OMG!) all within half an hour, which made for some great lighting conditions… enjoy!

    [slickr-flickr search=”sets” set=”72157626480783148″ type=”gallery”]

  • is reliance upon dualism hardwired?

    I wonder about the extent to which dichotomous thinking is either hard-wired or at least dependent on completely non-social forces.  It seems almost to be a thermodynamic question, that is, a question of trying to optimize the amount of energy spent in thinking for a given situation.  Thinking is a very expensive activity, physiologically speaking – it is essentially a catabolic process which relies upon the breakdown of molecules for their energy.   

    Evolution isn’t usually needlessly extravagant – in fact it’s kind of lazy, if you don’t mind the anthropomorphism.  It seems that in a broad sense, there is a sort of law of diminishing returns for the energy investment required for thinking.  In other words, if you encounter a situation in which some kind of action or distinction is called for, you get the most bang for your buck by quickly assessing things according to an either/or model.  Identify one aspect, which automatically calls up some kind of opposite, and make a determination on the basis of this division.  It’s quick, dirty, and effective for generating actions, feelings, and new thoughts.  If the feelings, actions, etc. that result from this distinction are ‘good enough’ then there is little reason/pressure to continue the act of thinking about it in a way that calls into question the basic assumptions of the underlying duality.  In other words, it’s easy to make and maintain the most basic of distinctions, those of duality.  

    So it seems to me that it is largely social factors that mitigate this tendency.  Trying to think through the layers and layers and layers of connection that inevitably describe EVERY situation is simply not practical energy-wise, and thus requires very significant counter-pressure for its activation.  We must run into situations in which our original duality is experientially shown to be inadequate for there to be a commitment to another round, or three or ten, of thinking over and through a given situation.  At some point things seem to just get too complex and we give up, and the point at which we abandon the process relates to the level of depth and complexity we are able to experience.   

    This is why I really like Kwame Anthony Appiah’s appeal to respectful experience with people not like us, i.e. through conversation: “Conversation doesn’t have to lead to consensus about anything, especially not values; it’s enough that it helps people get used to one another” (Appiah, 2006, p.85).  At a very basic level, time spent with others presents us with countless variations on the experience of discovering that our implicit or explicit distinctions are not always shared.  This presents (often, but maybe not often enough?) a kind of social pressure to go through a second round of thinking about our primary distinctions, the effect of which at least sets up a greater likelihood that we can ‘get used to’ differences which before were causes for anxiety.  

    In any case, it seems that there is a certain amount of ‘going against the biological grain’ required to produce people like Morin, Bernstein, or Appiah.  Luckily it’s not all biology!  Of course, applying this little analysis to itself, I should be wary of relying upon the duality of biology/sociality, because, following Morin, ‘it isn’t quite that simple’.  Round 1 over.

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  • how do you know what knowledge is?

    It’s quite a dilemma – not being able to directly check much of what we are exposed to and presented as ‘knowledge’.  Unless we begin to discover our own ways of knowing (a very difficult proposition, but I think possible), then we likely remain wanderers in the fog of our own (and other’s) unconsciousness.  

    Of course, at least in any near future, it doesn’t seem like subconscious situational effects can be avoided – nor do I think they should be.  Much of what we enjoy as part of our everyday capacities for thinking, feeling, and willing are rooted deeply and complexly in unconscious processes.  Indeed, what is normally conscious for us is perhaps one of the tiniest slices out of what can be potentially conscious, and perhaps the potentially conscious is just the tiniest slice out of the full depth and breadth of the universe as a whole – or not (because, in accord with what I just said, this is an impossible determination, requiring consciousness to take place).  

    In any case, pretty much EVERY modern study that follows the basic scientific practices is a study in obfuscation, requiring for its potential success a decided ignorance of as many ‘attenuating’, ‘circumstantial’, ‘probabilistic’, or ‘random’ factors as possible.  The more willfully ignorant a study becomes, the more exact are its pronouncements, and the more its knowledge is sequestered from the whole.  This is why all studies require additional work to be re-connected to the complex actualities of the world, necessitating interpretation, reframing, and recontextualization.   

    This suggests a different way of performing ‘studies’, discovered long ago by Goethe and others, in which the situatedness, the contingency, the circumstantial, are all necessarily included aspects of any attempt to work with and understand a phenomenon. 

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  • distinguishing between the ego and “I”


    Our experience of ourselves is in many ways completely mediated by aspects which are located beyond the normal boundary of the “I”.  I’d like to offer one possible way of looking at the issue.  

    I approach this question concerning the boudaries of the “I” by taking into account the transformations of the “I” as it works through and within the physical body and the soul body on its path from death to life to death to life.  To do so requires distinction between the ideas we have about our “I” and our unmediated, direct experience of our “I”, and more importantly between our “I” and what we can call our ego, on the basis of the usage of this term in the Western traditions (particularly psychology, which deals almost exclusively with the ego).  

    When incarnating, the human “I” experiences a period of darkness, which only gradually lifts throughout life, until (perhaps around the age of 21 or so) the first glimmerings of what I am referring to as the “I” become available to the experience of the ego, which is a structure that is present much earlier on, and is built up through a variety of relations between the burgeoning activities of the physical/soul bodies and the ‘outer’ worlds.  

    The incarnation of the “I” takes place not at birth, but much later, and sometimes not at all; this despite the fact that we each have the constructed ego that is constantly built up as a semi-permanent dialog between the inner activities of the body/soul and the various bodily and ensouled elements of our environment.  This ego includes the remnants of the activity which is rightfully regarded as the spiritual activity of the “I” – thinking.  Thus the ego becomes filled with thoughts but lacks the awareness of whence these thoughts originate.  In the meantime (in accord with all the social, cultural, historical, familial, etc. ‘forces’ at work around all the activities of the aspects of the human being which are not the “I”) the ego maintains the false impression that it is the one doing the thinking.  

    This then leads us to the question about how we draw the boundary around what we consider to be our “I”, which turns out more often than not to be a question to the ego about the ego.  There are no boundaries to the “I” in the normal sense, the “I” is a spiritual activity, a process.  It is a wonderful aspect of the spiritual world that “I’s” are capable of penetrating and moving with each other; their activities can merge, coincide, and diverge.  The idea of boundaries of the “I” only arises when we take our experience of the rules at work in the realm of physical bodies and our sense life and apply them to an arena in which no physical bodies or physical sense organs exist.  In other words, it is like asking about the flavor of a trapezoid.  

    We can have ideas, thoughts about the boundaries of our ego, but the activity upon which such ideas are based rests only in the “I”.  We can have the thought “My physical body only works because it includes trillions of bacteria and other organisms which I do not directly experience, but which science tells me are required for my process of digestion; if these microorganisms did not permeate my gut, I would be incapable of digesting my food.”  This leads us to the thought that perhaps I’d better take a look at what I consider to be my ‘self’ – shouldn’t it include all the aspects necessary to maintain the activities of my physical body, which support then my capacity to think and experience?  

    We can thus, in our thought-life (not our thinking-life) come to the idea that the normal drawing of the boundary between ‘self’ and ‘other’ is in some ways quite spurious.  There is then an attempt to fill the gap thus created (in thought) with other thoughts, which try to reorganize the connections made in thinking.  So we say things, perhaps, like “Well, yes, ‘I’ really must include the bacteria in my gut” and so forth.  

    But all the while we are missing the very activity that is the source of all of these reconfigurations of our thought-life; our thinking.  It is when we turn our attention to the thinking process itself that we start to come directly into contact with the “I” itself.  This experience, the recognition of the “I” by the “I”, is not a thought, but is what can occur when thinking takes itself as its own object.  In such a case, a completely different set of experiences become possible with respect to the question of the ‘boundaries’ of the self. 


    Moreover, what our ego keeps hidden from consciousness directly affects our perceptions and assumptions.  It seems that the ego, in a sense, precisely constitutes its boundaries by this very omission.  What I feel coming from my ego changes dramatically from situation to situation, not on the basis of what is included so much as on the basis of what is left out, and what’s more, on how it is left out.  

    The ‘mood’ around the process of the ego’s self-entrainment says more about my deeper nature than its explicit self-identifications ever could. 


    Cannon Beach Jan 2008-12

  • Alchemy and narcissistic, reproductive, and creative learning

    Alfonso Montuori, one of my professors at CIIS, has identified three styles, or modes, of learning, which he calls the narcissistic, the reproductive, and the creative.

    From his article, The Quest for a New Education, From Oppositional Identities to Creative Inquiry, narcissistic learning is “an approach to education that sees the source of knowledge as inside the knower.  It focuses on the expression of the knower’s experience and interiority and his or her personal growth and transformation.” (Montuori, Quest: p5)

    Reproductive learning, by contrast, is “an approach to education that sees the source of knowledge as almost exclusively outside the knower, and focuses on the accurate reproduction of that knowledge by the knower.” (Montuori, Quest: p5)

    Creative learning is a middle path, “an approach that views inquiry as a creative process.” (Montuori, Quest: p5)

    I see a correspondence with Montuori’s categories and those of the alchemical tradition and the anthroposophical tradition.  Alchemically, what Montuori describes as reproductive, creative, and narcissistic learnings are embodied in the principles of Salt, Mercury, and Sulfur.  The Salt principle is one which is observable when you have a solution out of which a precipitate falls.  The process is ruled by Gravity and tends to result in innumerable discrete bits with a greater density than the original solution.  The precipitate literally ‘falls out’ of the continuously interconnected fluid mass to become something distinct, something identifiable and separate.  Alchemically, the Salt process produces forms which have Earth characteristics.  This describes the process of reproductive learning as an exact analogue: more of the same.  Specific bits of information carry the value in reproductive learning, to the detriment of the interconnectedness of the facts when they were ‘in solution’.  It is a strange irony that reproductive learning has most strongly co-opted the very metaphor that exemplifies the state of being inextricably contextually connected and turned it into its rally cry: “Solve!”  The word ‘solve’ actually means to loosen, but the Salt process of reproductive learning inverts the dynamic into one that requires a singular, discrete, and correct answer to the undifferentiated mass of the original ‘solution’ out of which a ‘solution’ is derived!  The Salt process densifies, separates, and agglomerates into ‘false’ wholes by virtue of external pressures while lacking inner coherence or connectivity.

    Taken to the other extreme, we end up in narcissistic learning, exemplified by the process known alchemically as Sulfur.  Here, learning ignites itself from within, taking its own substance as fuel.  Sulfur is ruled by the higher-order process of Levity, and is precisely what counteracts (in a polar-opposite way) the Gravity of the Salt process.  The Sulfur process tends towards the periphery, taking the facts in only inasmuch as they can be added fuel to the fire; i.e. Sulfur as a process is completely self-involved.  The particularity, the individuality, the singularity of the specific facts are burnt away exactly to the extent that they carry within them what relates to the particular mode of manifestation of the Sulfur process.  Everything else gets left behind as a char, an ash, devoid of (apparent) life (in fact, you may notice, the Salt and Sulfur processes always occur together in reciprocity, complementarity, or opposition).  Sulfur, like narcissistic learning, takes only itself as its object and contextualizes everything else around its own process.

    Creative inquiry embodies the Mercuric process.  Mercury is the process that links the Salt and Sulfur – it is the process that performs the alchemical ‘marriage’ between the Salt and the Sulfur.  The goal “to make the academic transformative and to ground the transformative in the academic” (Montuori, Quest: p5) is a way of saying that the transformative (Sulfuric) needs to ‘marry’ the academic (Salt) in order for a healthy learning to occur.  Montuori recognizes explicitly that the path of creative inquiry is one that exemplifies “a middle way, a spectrum of possibilities between extremes” (Montuori, Quest: p5).  The Mercuric process is the go-between, the walker of boundaries, the oscillator, the Messenger, the one who takes on the characteristics of the other while leading the other beyond itself.  It embodies aspects of both the Salt and Sulfur processes, by integrating them into a new form – a creative act – that is impossible without either the Salt or Sulfur.  Mercury’s/Herme’s caduceus, with its two entwined snakes, can be considered the alchemical Mercuric ideal of continuous interplay and harmonizing between the Salt and Sulfur processes, acted out in the being himself and carried as his most prominent symbol.

    Anthroposophically speaking, the Salt process is linked to a being known as Ahriman (a name taken from ancient Persia) while the Sulfur process is linked to a being known as Lucifer (whom I imagine you are all familiar with in some form).  The Mercury process – the middle way – is linked to the Christ being.  However, I won’t go into the details as this post has probably already put some people to sleep (another dual Salt/Sulfur process: part of you becomes a precipitate – your physical and life bodies – while another part of you expands to the periphery – your astral body and “I”; and in your dreams you embody Mercury…)

    Tulip-5

     

  • on destruction

    The role of destruction, and of the working out of polarities, is a subject that has been dealt with an the alchemical tradition for a very long time.  Alchemically, it is understood that the issue you are dealing with, in which you find yourself (the prima materia) MUST go through a process of putrefaction, of fermentation… the individual elements cannot by themselves produce a work of lasting value (a Great Work), but must be destroyed in order to be refined.  The refined elements then have the capacity to ‘marry’ the other elements to form a higher, more integrated, more complex and simple unity which ennobles and embodies the transformation of the worst parts of ‘the matter’.

    All diagnoses are misdiagnoses because they stay at the level of the overt fact, and do not take into account the necessary inclusion of relationshipreversal, and the whole.  The image of the fireweed and the pinecone are examples in nature of the aspect of the Fire element in which destruction is required for new life.  In this sense, the destruction is viewed not as a negative process but as a transformative one, in which the potentials of the lower state are realizable only through their passing away, and indeed, it is their very passing away which creates the space (Air element) into which the potential new state can flow, because room is made for it.

    The same pattern occurs in the human being all the time – we do not transform without the heat of the Fire, also known as the Will – but not a will directed towards a specific absolute (an Earth), but what is known as an ‘open will’, which is just the part which maintains itself by transforming itself through its own death into a new state…

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