postmonition

In my post of August 31, on the very day when I had the seeming misfortune of accidentally missing an interview for a position I felt I badly needed, I wrote:

I had this wave of rising spirits. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I had a sense that something good was happening, something was unfolding, some ship was about to come in.

It turned out that that day was a turning point in my search for my next step in my career. When my boss saw how distressing it was to me to be seeking a position so far below my potential, she started really plugging for me. She landed me an information interview with HR. Trusting her recommendation of me, and apparently impressed with how I presented in the interview, they told me about a position coming up in their own department, and this week I am the proud owner of a new job that I start a week from Monday. The best thing about the position is that I am finally steering my way back to the people professions after a long detour in a field that offered me no real sense of purpose. So, thanks to all my gadfly friends who kept telling me I should do something with my psychology degree; I din't know how right you were. Thanks to all the doors that refused to open, keeping me from going further in the wrong direction. Thank you, unconscious self, for making me miss that fatal interview. Thank you, cream, for rising to the top. Thank you, hope, for springing eternal. And thank you, little light of mine -- I'm gonna let you shine.

you make me feel like I'm floating on air

You guys all remember how great your college days were? There was this one time when I was walking across the college quad. I was quite exposed below the belt, and enjoying the sense of freedom this gave me. For purposes of discretion I tucked my full mast down belown beneath my shirt tails. I was certain this would be enough not to raise any suspicions. I made it back to my dorm room where I decided to throw a little private party. I was dancing with my friend Donna and things started to get frisky between us. I put my hands on her behind and was so astonished I couldn't help but comment that she seemed to have buns of steel. I asked her whether she wanted to go into another room where I could take her clothes off. "We could do that, but then you'd miss the dance class." I think it is to my credit that I actually preferred the dance class, don't you? She started to show me this new dance style. The main thing about it was that you walked on the very tips of your toes. It was like ballet in that sense, but with this difference. With carefully planned little hops you were supposed to keep your feet in the air and sort of hover over the dance floor. It was an interesting sensation. "Wow!" I said. "This is just like dreams I've had where I'm just about to fly ... "

listen to reason

One of the most astonishing things about the coverage of the Pope's controversial speech is this: no one bothers to read it. After a good deal of digging, I found it. And I find nothing whatever that could possibly be seen as an attack on Islam, or as a characterization of modern muslims as violent crusaders. He had nothing to apologize for, and the fact that an irrational political reaction forced him to apologize is greatly to be lamented. For it undermines the purpose of his talk: the importance of reason in religious conviction. Just to quote from the concluding paragraph of his talk:

The courage to engage the whole breadth of reason, and not the denial of its grandeur - this is the programme with which a theology grounded in Biblical faith enters into the debates of our time. "Not to act reasonably, not to act with logos, is contrary to the nature of God", said Manuel II, according to his Christian understanding of God, in response to his Persian interlocutor. It is to this great logos, to this breadth of reason, that we invite our partners in the dialogue of cultures. To rediscover it constantly is the great task of the university.

Manuel II Paleologus was an educated Persian, familiar with both Christianity and Islam, and the Emperor of Byzantium during the late 14th and early 15th century. This is the context in which the Pope quotes him:

Without descending to details, such as the difference in treatment accorded to those who have the "Book" and the "infidels", he addresses his interlocutor with a startling brusqueness, a brusqueness which leaves us astounded, on the central question about the relationship between religion and violence in general, saying: "Show me just what Mohammed brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached". The emperor, after having expressed himself so forcefully, goes on to explain in detail the reasons why spreading the faith through violence is something unreasonable. Violence is incompatible with the nature of God and the nature of the soul. "God", he says, "is not pleased by blood - and not acting reasonably (σὺν λόγω) is contrary to God's nature. Faith is born of the soul, not the body. Whoever would lead someone to faith needs the ability to speak well and to reason properly, without violence and threats... To convince a reasonable soul, one does not need a strong arm, or weapons of any kind, or any other means of threatening a person with death...".

Now, just for the record, there were certainly a great many swordpoint conversions during the early rise of Islam, and many of these occurred under the direct influence of Mohammed. Though the Koran expressly forbids forced conversions, this prohibition was easily made marginal by merely offering non-muslims the choice to convert. It was an offer you could freely refuse, but a refusal could have violent consequences. Such was the freedom they offered their adversaries. The muslim community today has the power to gag powerful figures like the Pope when he makes even oblique references to Islamic religious violence. Osama Bin Laden, however, makes the most direct references possible. In his World Islamic Front Statement, "Jihad Against Jews and Crusaders", Bin Laden quotes several of the bloodiest passages from the Koran, including this one:

Fight and slay the pagans wherever ye find them, seize them, beleaguer them, and lie in wait for them in every stratagem.

Modern muslims would do well to address this issue directly, rather than merely shaming any public figure who uncovers it in the course of his speech. A central belief of Islam is that Mohammed is the Messenger of God, and the Koran is considered to be one of the infallible vessels of that message. There are a great many bloody passages in the Koran, in which Mohammed encourages his people to kill and die in religious militanism. As peace loving muslims everywhere attempt to distance themselves from terrorists, they face the difficult situation of having also to distance themselves from their prophet and from their holy book. It's a difficult situation; I sympathize with them deeply. But though its obvious that bigotry must be challenged wherever it is found, this should not mean gagging and shaming even those who are attempting to create a foundation for a rational discourse about religious matters. That is a form of bullying, and bullying is contrary to God's nature.

to be human is to play

I led a seminar for my local St. John's College alumni association chapter this past weekend, on the first sixteen of Schiller's Letters on the Aesthetic Education of Man. I'll skip the book review, except to say that it is very difficult to understand but rewards careful study. Here are some quotes, I promise more when we do the seminar next month on the remaining letters:

It is only through beauty that man makes his way to freedom.

Every individual human being carries within himself an ideal man, the archetype of a human being, and it is his life's task to be, through all his changing manifestations, in harmony with the unchanging unity of his ideal.

Thus do we see the spirit of the age wavering between perversity and brutality, and it is only through an equilibrium of evils that it is still sometimes kept within bounds.

Freedom in its first tentative ventures always comes in the guise of an enemy.

The way to the head must be opened through the heart.

For whole centuries thinkers and artists will do their best to submerge truth and beauty in the depths of a degraded humanity; it is they themselves who are drowned there, while truth and beauty, with their own indestructible vitality, struggle triumphantly to the surface.

Live with your century; but do not be its creature. Work for your contemporaries; but create what they need, not what they praise.

As soon as reason utters the pronouncement: let humanity exist, it has by that very pronouncement also promulgated the law: let there be beauty.

It is play and play alone which of all man's states and conditions is the one that makes him whole and unfolds both sides of his nature at once.

Man only plays when he is in the fullest sense of the word a human being, and he is only fully a human being when he plays.

The Greeks ... transferred to Olympus what was meant to be realized on earth.

The highest ideal of beauty is, therefore, to be sought in the most perfect possible union and equilibrium of reality and form.

cleanse

Since I am in a period of renewal and purification right now, I decided to ask my dear friend and skilled whole health expert Melanie Rose to design a gentle cleanse for my physical system. Typical guy, when I first looked at the diet schedule she had created, I told myself it would be a piece of cake, and felt even a little bored at the prospect. But in fact it has become a quite consuming and transformative enterprise, and so far completely worth the effort. Take this morning. For today through Sunday, according to the schedule, I eat only raw and steamed fruits and vegetables and drink only lemon water and herbal teas. So, this morning I woke at around 6:30, took my morning herbal supplement, did 20 minutes of Zen meditation, and then made breakfast. Hunger has been an intense and frequent companion so far (I am on day 4 of the cleanse). Though I do not restrict my portions, the foods that I am eating are not as dense and slow to digest as before. So I was ravenous on awakening. I made miso soup with nori, spinach, and green onions. If you had seen how quickly I ate this soup, you would have thought I hadn't seen food in days -- the fact that I don't usually have savory foods for breakfast made no difference. Then I juiced a tomato, red pepper, 2 stalks of celery, and half a cucumber. Flavors are very intense and complex for me right now, because my tastebuds are not constantly being flooded by tidal waves of sugar. This one glass of juice, with its frothy cream on top, and the crimson ministry of peppers and tomatoes beneath, mingled with lacy fronds of celery and cucumber lending their clear spirits to the aroma and savor, could have provided me with enough poetic material for an epic. But I was in a rush. I still had to make lunch for work. I interrupted my roommate Kurt from his dream interpretation writing to ask him if he thought green beans and broccoli would steam in the same time. Yes, he thought they would. Clean and prep. Clean and prep. I got rid of the trimmings of the veggies, put away what little remained of my soup, prepped the broccoli and green beans, and tossed them into the steam basket. I cut up a lemon for my water bottle, and packed four pieces of fruit to get me through my work day. Trying one of the green beans, it walked in its intense olive livery directly into the secret chamber of my senses, and making its announcement of flavor, made my royal highness stand up with a pleasure ecstasy that was almost an alarm. My eyes bugged a little, as all my nerves rushed to the scene of whatever is the opposite of crime. Done, and the broccoli a bit too soft, actually. I threw them into tupperware, squeezed some lemon juice over them, and packed them away. Sweep the floor, shower, dress, and out the door, I'll be a bit late for work. But wait, I forgot it may rain, must pack my raincoat and rain pants for the bike ride home. My backpack must weigh 30 pounds by now, with all the fruit, veggies, bottle of water, and all the raingear. And then I had that thought again, which has come back to me again and again during this cleanse, a constant reflection on how my body is changing, that haunts me like a ghost. Time to pee.

am I dreaming?

I am suited up today, as I have an interview at Harvard Medical School Human Resources today. I still rode my bike into work, and on the way passed the owner of my local bike shop, Jeffrey Ferris. "You look sharp," he said. "Is that a spandex neck tie?" Then when I got into work, one of my coworkers told me I looked like a mafia hitman. And when I told someone else I had an interview today, he said "Better that than a court appearance." My boss at least said I looked sharp. I told her I was glad to hear it, since I'd been teased so much already about my appearance. Then she told me that the woman I'll be interviewing with today is blind! Weird! Am I dreaming?

dumpster buddha

For those of you who have not seen this, I thought I would post my greatest role in a photo essay so far, by the amazing director Cynthia Rockwell. I received no awards for my appearance, but I was treated to cheese and crackers backstage after the shoot.

the eternal question

As a spiritual practitioner and one of Boston's most eligible bachelor's, I can't wait to read The Onion's interview with the Dalai Lama .

demiurge blues

On the first day, there was no sun. How then was it day? Zeus woke up in his silk sheets. He had the best of everything, but still sometimes, couldn't sleep through till morning. Careful not to wake the wife, he got up in the dark, and stumbled to the door in the drunken darkness. In the kitchen, he opened the fridge. That was the first light -- the one that the little penguin turned on, falling blankly on the pee-pee of the god. He scratched his grizzled chest, and yawned from way back in his kidneys, the sound resounding in the wells of space, and its antimatter twin doing exactly the same, exactly the opposite. Nothing he wanted in there. Penguin at ease, and back to bed, careful not to wake the wife, he drew back the sheets and slowly lowered himself down again. And fingering his cheeks idly with his fingers, he thought about what the day would bring. Once he started, there would be no end to it. Cause would follow cause, and everyone always complaining. Poor guy. Hey, Zeus. Don't you listen to them. You are a decent guy. You are doing a good job. Don't you listen.

but I want some money, too

Amakuki Sessan, a Zen teacher, has a suggestion for making poetry relevant for modern times. He suggests adding the following line to the end of each poem:

But I want some money, too!

He gives an example of how this would work, using a classic of Japanese verse:

I started off along the shore, The sea shore at Tago And saw the white and glistening peak of Fuji all aglow Through falling flakes of snow. But I want some money, too!

Since I have been working on a little haiku on this blog [1,2], I thought I would try out his technique and see how it turns out. So, here goes:

Mind, pot of wondrous iron throw in whatever you've got it all turns tender -- but I want some money, too!

Hey, that is kind of catchy.

take me higher

I was on an elevator with some of my tutors from college. Mr. Shulman, my junior lab tutor, was asking me what I was up to, a question I generally hate. One of the other tutors was trying to explain it to him, but was getting some of the details mixed up. Time to set the record straight. "I'm a temporary administrative assistant at Harvard Medical School's IT Department." "Oh," he said, "sounds like someone's learned some lessons about survival." He's a pale, slight redhead, and he has a smile which is actually full of kindness, but if you see it in the wrong light, it looks like a smirk, and you just want to clobber the guy. Like right now. "It's been a long time since I graduated college, Mr. Shulman." My voice was soaked in bitterness, and I was trying to keep from tearing up. "If I hadn't learned those lessons I wouldn't be standing in front of you today." Then I started to explain how my boss was giving me some interesting projects, like designing a process flow for a computer program that would help a committee manage protocol documents for the handling of animals in experimental research. The other tutors were asking me a few questions about this, and I was getting into it with them, happy to talk about anything other than the big picture of how my life was going. But then one of the tutors was wondering whether we'd missed our stop on the elevator, and we all looked over at the panel to see what was going on. We had definitely missed our stop. We were going to the 24th floor (coincidentally, the floor I took to get to my last workplace), and had just passed it. There were a number of really striking women with us in the elevator close to the control panel, wearing what looked like renaissance dresses, and they had just finished making their selections. We would now stop at all of the floors all the way up to 52. There was kind of a collective groan at this discovery, since we would now have to ride all the way up in order to get back down. But I was still studying the problem to see whether there was a better way, and frankly I was a little confused. The elevator bank now seemed to start at floor 24, which was never the case before, and we couldn't have taken the wrong elevator, because I knew my way around too well. Then I looked at the elevator again, and to the left of the elevator bank there were buttons lit up with religious messages, like "Have you found Jesus?" I looked again, and those buttons were gone and something different was there. And this elevator was way too large to be a real elevator, there were like 30 people in here and we all had plenty of room. Now, wait just a cotton-picking minute here. "I'm dreaming!" I announced. I could feel it in my bones. I was so excited to have made this discovery, because now I knew I would not have to continue my humiliating conversation with my tutors. "I'm dreaming!" My friend Deanna appeared before me in the elevator. "Deanna, I'm dreaming, are you dreaming too?" "Yes, I am, I know I'm dreaming!" "Oh, Deanna!" I said, embracing her. "Let's get out of here!" I was no longer concerned about being trapped in the elevator, and we left easily. We found ourselves in a large sunlit room with a long central table that was displaying magazines. "Deanna," I said. "I'm not going to settle for less any more. I'm going to experience the best things that life has to offer." And then embracing her once more, I said "Like you. My best friend!" * I woke up, feeling a song within me. I can't hum it to you here, but it sounds like a southern gospel hymn, and is full of peace and gladness at arriving at a promised land.