Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Human Complexity, and a poem (I, Too, Could Be Ironic)
Several times recently, I have felt that various others have not lived up to my expectations. The housecleaner who didn't show in time of need, the gracious landlord who became Scrooge at the last minute, the friend who did not keep the promise of help--all these have led me to wonder, what does such behavior say about human nature? Are my expectations too high? Am I too easily taken in? Why do people act in a way counter to our notions of what is good and right.
A partial answer is presented in a recent movie. In an extreme case, a brilliant writer approaches his live human subect both as a commodity to exploit and as a victim he wishes to help. It is as if the writer himself is so split in his inner nature that one side hardly comprehends the motives of the other. He is both admirable and deplorable, light and shadow intermingled.
All of us carry similar contradictions within. We like to think of ourselves as composed strictly of positive aspects. But in truth, we embrace both, as difficult as that may be to admit.
The poem below deals with the intellectual who uses his/her mental superiority to view with condescension those who cling to a vision of faith which he (the intellectual) insists is mere delusion. The mental heavyweight has used logic to demonstrate that there is "nothing there" beyond what can be noted by the rational mind. He is like Flannery O'Connor's character who has "seen through to where nothing is." From his superior position, he smiles in derision on those lost in swamps of (to him) illusion, below.
However, this scenario also carries complex overtones. The ostensible visionary may be hostage to a false enlightenment. He may, in fact, be duped by a shallow or warped vision, leading to a dangerous egotism, a conviction that "I alone am right." His revelation may lead to dogmatism, or fanaticism.
How is one to know the difference between true and false, trustworthy and misleading? Only great inner wisdom, and constant seeking can carry one safely ahead. One may end up being flayed for truth, or else be infused with angelic bliss. One must be prepared to accept either outcome at the moment when grace descends.
Ultimately, one can never convince others of the validity of such intimate transformation, for it is a "self-validating experience." All kundalini lovers know this. The inner transfiguration which follows the key moment is true for the self, but possibly no one else will share this conviction, for it is outside their own realm of experience and/or perception.
I too could be ironic
Yes, I know.
I too could be ironic,
exposing all the naked flaws
and imperfections
of those who lose themselves
in the labyrinth of faith,
whom I might then call
desperate souls grasping
at feeble straws
of belief,
along with claims of transformation,
passport to nirvana.
As if, they say, some current or universal force
had touched them,
carried them to new heights of knowing,
as if some visitor from outer space
had first undone them,
then reconstructed them anew,
some lightning bolt
of revelation shattering them
to their core.
How ridiculous it all seemed then.
In fact, my mantra for many years
was "how absurd."
Then one day the moment
came. . . .
And then I knew,
was blinded by unspoken truth
as I opened to
who I was.
Dorothy Walters
March 19, 2006
A partial answer is presented in a recent movie. In an extreme case, a brilliant writer approaches his live human subect both as a commodity to exploit and as a victim he wishes to help. It is as if the writer himself is so split in his inner nature that one side hardly comprehends the motives of the other. He is both admirable and deplorable, light and shadow intermingled.
All of us carry similar contradictions within. We like to think of ourselves as composed strictly of positive aspects. But in truth, we embrace both, as difficult as that may be to admit.
The poem below deals with the intellectual who uses his/her mental superiority to view with condescension those who cling to a vision of faith which he (the intellectual) insists is mere delusion. The mental heavyweight has used logic to demonstrate that there is "nothing there" beyond what can be noted by the rational mind. He is like Flannery O'Connor's character who has "seen through to where nothing is." From his superior position, he smiles in derision on those lost in swamps of (to him) illusion, below.
However, this scenario also carries complex overtones. The ostensible visionary may be hostage to a false enlightenment. He may, in fact, be duped by a shallow or warped vision, leading to a dangerous egotism, a conviction that "I alone am right." His revelation may lead to dogmatism, or fanaticism.
How is one to know the difference between true and false, trustworthy and misleading? Only great inner wisdom, and constant seeking can carry one safely ahead. One may end up being flayed for truth, or else be infused with angelic bliss. One must be prepared to accept either outcome at the moment when grace descends.
Ultimately, one can never convince others of the validity of such intimate transformation, for it is a "self-validating experience." All kundalini lovers know this. The inner transfiguration which follows the key moment is true for the self, but possibly no one else will share this conviction, for it is outside their own realm of experience and/or perception.
I too could be ironic
Yes, I know.
I too could be ironic,
exposing all the naked flaws
and imperfections
of those who lose themselves
in the labyrinth of faith,
whom I might then call
desperate souls grasping
at feeble straws
of belief,
along with claims of transformation,
passport to nirvana.
As if, they say, some current or universal force
had touched them,
carried them to new heights of knowing,
as if some visitor from outer space
had first undone them,
then reconstructed them anew,
some lightning bolt
of revelation shattering them
to their core.
How ridiculous it all seemed then.
In fact, my mantra for many years
was "how absurd."
Then one day the moment
came. . . .
And then I knew,
was blinded by unspoken truth
as I opened to
who I was.
Dorothy Walters
March 19, 2006
