I've been thinking about principles again. I once mentioned that having some solid principles to rely on makes for a useful fall-back when things get rough. One can address certain problems by asking, for example, "what is the most powerful thing I could do here? The simplest? The most adventurous?" I find that far more useful than the typical, emotionally reactive things I've seen.
I've been bored a lot lately. Too much cognitive surplus, and video games don't cut it.
It occurs to me that one might not simply fall back on principle when dealing with problems. What's the most powerful thing a human being can do at all, regardless of circumstance? What's the most adventurous thing I'm actually capable of? The simplest?
Some of these ideas are already reflected in my habits, but at a relatively low level of understanding. I make sure I'm doing some kind of exercise regularly, which is a minor exploration of power. Treat family and friends with the intent of loving them. Stick to Free software to the extent that work allows. I have a pretty simple life punctuated with minor adventures, when the mood strikes. It would be interesting to see how far these can be taken though, get past maintenance and into.. I don't know, world domination or something. It bears a bit of investigation and then experiments and application.
One thing that occasionally blows my mind is a fairly simple train of what I hope is logical thinking. It goes like this:
I am a small piece of the Universe.
I am aware of myself, and aware of the Universe.
Therefore, the Universe is aware of me, and of its self.
I don't expect to get back on the Christianity train any time soon, but the experience of having this epiphany "feels" more like it should be worded:
"I think, therefore ... (God!?)"
There are other odd tracks that tend to flow. Such as whether the oceans or Earth should be counted as "alive" even though the rocks and salt don't reproduce themselves. If you take a fish out of the ocean, it tends to die. So is the fish not a part of the ocean? What about the fact that if you took a given scoop of ocean water up and looked at in under a microscope, it would probably have a ton of single celled organisms in it?
Oh right... they call that an "ecosystem."
The whole thing is a mental parlor trick. I can't do anything with these thoughts.
"Ooh, it's amazing! But wait ... so what?"
I've been stationary all day, feeling strangely weak and confused by how easily the rain makes me want to do nothing. Wet. Cold. Normally I am unfazed, but today, no thank you.
Listening to a long, somewhat rambling pod-cast on the subject of personal development. The speaker says from the beginning that it is unplanned. He starts the hour thinking about the nature of death and impermanence, and concludes by suggesting we are all essentially spiritual beings who have come to strengthen ourselves in our alignment with truth, love, and power.
One of those rare moments when it seems like I've heard something worthwhile.
But damn. That looks like a really long road.
I stumbled across an article about Buckminster Fuller none too long ago. Apparently he claimed that purpose is innate, but follows a rule of "precession." The explanation being that one's purpose is achieved as a side-effect of one's goals.
Bees, for example, have individual goals along the lines of "go find pollen to make honey." As a side effect of their doing so, they pollinate plants, granting the rest of us the ability to eat.
Unfortunately, this means that there is no achieving anything in any lasting sense. Best to find a way to live while loving what you do, because there is no finish line. (Unless, as George Carlin jokes, we actually are here to produce plastic*.)
Perhaps, for those of us constantly hungry for meaning, the best we can hope for is positive feedback about the effects our lives have.
* Of course, if Carlin's approach is right, we're probably here to develop some kind of heavily armed super-consciousness.
Lilly is an artist, among three hosts on a panel discussion on art, architecture, and the public sphere held Saturday.
She went to a village in Rwanda as an artist. The people there showed her mass graves, bones stacked haphazardly on open shelves. She observed that healing would not happen there, with the bones of their loved ones simply haunting them on a daily basis. She showed the living a few tile mosaic techniques and found herself aiding the design and construction of a proper burial site. The new one is white and purple. Purple is the color of national mourning. It is beautiful, and Lilly claims this is the most important point: Beauty is healing for the soul.
Lilly is not a student of community organizing, activism, or politics. She did not lead the effort either. She was a catalyst. "Without me, the work would not have happened, but with me, it was not mine."
She is older, English is not her native tongue. She comes across as extremely intuitive, her actions and words seem to come straight from her creative right-brain.
She spoke of innate knowledge. Where others at the meeting were applying theories and studies, she simply followed her instincts.
I do not think she struggles with meaning. It might be unwise to adopt another's path, or cause, or launch into some misguided attempt to save the world, but there is something here. I think it is about right brains, and moving from right to left brain and back. Getting closer to animal instincts without losing one's reason.
Does the idea of innate knowledge ring any bells?
"Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the men of old; seek what they sought." ~Matsuo Basho
Ayn Rand (of all people), points out that in a strange place, one must ask: "Where am I? How can I discover it? What should I do?"