(original post-date: March 23, 2011)
It was extremely overcast in Los Angeles last weekend, so I was not able to see the Super Full Moon.
But I liked the idea of it, particularly given the current state of the world.
That Moon, brighter and bigger than usual, had a lot to shine on.
In Japan.
In Libya.
Where you are.
Where I am.
It’s impossible to address the current state of the world in one short essay. There are the actions of nature, which can be blamed on no one. There are the dangers of cultivating nuclear energy, which reflect taking calculated risks in an effort to meet the world’s complex needs. There is the chain reaction of unprecedented activism throughout the Middle East and North Africa – a man-made tsunami of social discontent.
… When I was in my 20’s, a boyfriend introduced me to the writings of Henry Miller, and I quickly devoured Tropic of Capricorn and Sexus. I used to joke that I’d read Miller with a dictionary in one hand and a vibrator in the other. Seriously – his erotic passages were as raw as they get. But that wasn’t the content that kept me reading. Miller’s writing climbs to amazing levels, eloquently reflecting his keen sense of the metaphysical, his passion for life and living, and his acknowledgment that the world is a precarious place, making every moment all the more valuable.
I have many favorite passages from both of those books, but the one that has remained in my head is this one, from Sexus:
Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything God-like about God it is that. He dared to imagine everything.
… I find the concept of God fascinating. I am, as they say on match dot com, “spiritual but not religious.” In fact, I’m so spiritual that I haven’t even told me what I believe. Bottom line is that I am utterly humbled by what I know for sure, and that is this: we’re all living on a big round thing that’s spinning so fast we don’t fall off.
Talk about imagination! Talk about daring! Anyway, acknowledging that little bit of proved science is pretty much all I can handle. If I think about it for more than a few minutes, I have to lie down.
And these days, it seems that this big round thing we’re all living on is really pissed off.
I don’t blame it.
And populations around the globe are upset by their societal circumstances.
I don’t blame them either.
Part of me thinks it’s damned remarkable we’ve come this far.
… I decided to dig into my old copy of Sexus to see what preceded that line that’s stayed with me. Interesting. Among other things, I love what it says about personal power:
The prisoner is not the one who has committed a crime, but the one who clings to his crime and lives it over and over. We are all guilty of crime, the great crime of not living life to the full. But we are all potentially free. We can stop thinking of what we have failed to do and do whatever lies within our power. What these powers that are in us may be no one has truly dared to imagine. That they are infinite we will realize the day we admit to ourselves that imagination is everything. Imagination is the voice of daring…
Yes, the powers within us are infinite, but only as long as we are alive.
That’s the catch; life is finite.
What we owe to the creative, imaginative, daring force that put us here is this: to embrace the blessing of every moment; to pursue our dreams; to do what is good.
That’s all we’ve got time for.
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Monday, March 19, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Nature vs. Grace
I recently visited my Netflix Queue to see what I might expect in the weeks ahead.
What I saw was a list with all of three titles, none of which was particularly compelling.
I’m sure that the reality of that short, unexciting roster says all kinds of things about my mood lately.
And right now, I don’t want to explore the possible implications.
But I will confess to a distinct lack of enthusiasm. And I also will assure you that I immediately went about fixing the length of said queue.
I added more titles, and as I did, I selected Tree of Life, which recently got an Oscar nomination for Best Picture.
… Actually, I didn’t just add it.
I put it at the top.
And so it arrived.
And so I watched it last night.
Oh my…
I can’t recall the last time I saw a movie that was quite so “trippy.” (I’m guessing Terrence Malick is a fan of recreational drugs.)
What I loved more than anything, though, was how the visual poetry of Tree of Life was set up.
As early as possible, I got the message. We have two choices: “nature” or “grace.” And those of us who pick grace might never be thanked for it.
Having not before considered these two as ultimate options (that also are in conflict with each other), I was immediately drawn in. And during a long montage that revealed what we call “nature,” I was reminded of its qualities.
Nature is intense, cruel, and explosive.
Think earthquakes.
Think tornadoes.
Think volcanoes.
That is nature.
And therefore, if you accept Malick’s thesis as to the other choice, grace must be calm, kind, and gentle.
I think that’s about right.
I didn’t look at the clock while it was happening, but the montage I mentioned just a moment ago went on for quite some time. And while it was mostly a long, long series of shots that revealed nature in all its intense and explosive cruelty, there also were moments of grace. Many moments of grace.
But the message was not about grace. The message was about nature.
And that got me thinking about a phrase we use: “It’s just human nature.”
And so, with a newfound appreciation for the meaning of “nature,” I revisited that phrase.
It’s just human nature, perhaps, to be intense, cruel, and explosive.
It’s a survival impulse. And because nature is, above all, so powerful, it’s human nature to take actions that are based on a desire for power. (A desire, perhaps, that comes from fear of a greater power.)
Unless… you recognize that grace is another option.
To be graceful is to take a risk. Your calm, kind, and gentle manner – grace in action – is unlikely to be rewarded. That manner will not pay the rent or provide you with acquaintances who can get you ahead in this world.
Being graceful goes against nature.
But maybe, that's why we NEED it?
…And then there’s the mention of God.
Oh yes, God figures into Tree of Life.
And from what the story told me, the purpose of God is to help both sides explain their situation.
That’s why we need to believe in God.
What else can possibly explain (or excuse) this conundrum?
What else can explain pitting us against each other century after century?
… Each other.
The ones who follow nature and those who believe in grace.
What I saw was a list with all of three titles, none of which was particularly compelling.
I’m sure that the reality of that short, unexciting roster says all kinds of things about my mood lately.
And right now, I don’t want to explore the possible implications.
But I will confess to a distinct lack of enthusiasm. And I also will assure you that I immediately went about fixing the length of said queue.
I added more titles, and as I did, I selected Tree of Life, which recently got an Oscar nomination for Best Picture.
… Actually, I didn’t just add it.
I put it at the top.
And so it arrived.
And so I watched it last night.
Oh my…
I can’t recall the last time I saw a movie that was quite so “trippy.” (I’m guessing Terrence Malick is a fan of recreational drugs.)
What I loved more than anything, though, was how the visual poetry of Tree of Life was set up.
As early as possible, I got the message. We have two choices: “nature” or “grace.” And those of us who pick grace might never be thanked for it.
Having not before considered these two as ultimate options (that also are in conflict with each other), I was immediately drawn in. And during a long montage that revealed what we call “nature,” I was reminded of its qualities.
Nature is intense, cruel, and explosive.
Think earthquakes.
Think tornadoes.
Think volcanoes.
That is nature.
And therefore, if you accept Malick’s thesis as to the other choice, grace must be calm, kind, and gentle.
I think that’s about right.
I didn’t look at the clock while it was happening, but the montage I mentioned just a moment ago went on for quite some time. And while it was mostly a long, long series of shots that revealed nature in all its intense and explosive cruelty, there also were moments of grace. Many moments of grace.
But the message was not about grace. The message was about nature.
And that got me thinking about a phrase we use: “It’s just human nature.”
And so, with a newfound appreciation for the meaning of “nature,” I revisited that phrase.
It’s just human nature, perhaps, to be intense, cruel, and explosive.
It’s a survival impulse. And because nature is, above all, so powerful, it’s human nature to take actions that are based on a desire for power. (A desire, perhaps, that comes from fear of a greater power.)
Unless… you recognize that grace is another option.
To be graceful is to take a risk. Your calm, kind, and gentle manner – grace in action – is unlikely to be rewarded. That manner will not pay the rent or provide you with acquaintances who can get you ahead in this world.
Being graceful goes against nature.
But maybe, that's why we NEED it?
…And then there’s the mention of God.
Oh yes, God figures into Tree of Life.
And from what the story told me, the purpose of God is to help both sides explain their situation.
That’s why we need to believe in God.
What else can possibly explain (or excuse) this conundrum?
What else can explain pitting us against each other century after century?
… Each other.
The ones who follow nature and those who believe in grace.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
God's Big Flashlight in the Sky
It was extremely overcast in Los Angeles last weekend, so I was not able to see the Super Full Moon.
But I liked the idea of it, particularly given the current state of the world.
That Moon, brighter and bigger than usual, had a lot to shine on.
In Japan.
In Libya.
Where you are.
Where I am.
It’s impossible to address the current state of the world in one short essay. There are the actions of nature, which can be blamed on no one. There are the dangers of cultivating nuclear energy, which reflect taking calculated risks in an effort to meet the world’s complex needs. There is the chain reaction of unprecedented activism throughout the Middle East and North Africa – a man-made tsunami of social discontent.
… When I was in my 20’s, a boyfriend introduced me to the writings of Henry Miller, and I quickly devoured Tropic of Capricorn and Sexus. I used to joke that I’d read Miller with a dictionary in one hand and a vibrator in the other. Seriously – his erotic passages were as raw as they get. But that wasn’t the content that kept me reading. Miller’s writing climbs to amazing levels, eloquently reflecting his keen sense of the metaphysical, his passion for life and living, and his acknowledgment that the world is a precarious place, making every moment all the more valuable.
I have many favorite passages from both of those books, but the one that has remained in my head is this one, from Sexus:
Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything God-like about God it is that. He dared to imagine everything.
… I find the concept of God fascinating. I am, as they say on match dot com, “spiritual but not religious.” In fact, I’m so spiritual that I haven’t even told me what I believe. Bottom line is that I am utterly humbled by what I know for sure, and that is this: we’re all living on a big round thing that’s spinning so fast we don’t fall off.
Talk about imagination! Talk about daring! Anyway, acknowledging that little bit of proved science is pretty much all I can handle. If I think about it for more than a few minutes, I have to lie down.
And these days, it seems that this big round thing we’re all living on is really pissed off.
I don’t blame it.
And populations around the globe are upset by their societal circumstances.
I don’t blame them either.
Part of me thinks it’s damned remarkable we’ve come this far.
… I decided to dig into my old copy of Sexus to see what preceded that line that’s stayed with me. Interesting. Among other things, I love what it says about personal power:
The prisoner is not the one who has committed a crime, but the one who clings to his crime and lives it over and over. We are all guilty of crime, the great crime of not living life to the full. But we are all potentially free. We can stop thinking of what we have failed to do and do whatever lies within our power. What these powers that are in us may be no one has truly dared to imagine. That they are infinite we will realize the day we admit to ourselves that imagination is everything. Imagination is the voice of daring…
Yes, the powers within us are infinite, but only as long as we are alive.
That’s the catch; life is finite.
What we owe to the creative, imaginative, daring force that put us here is this: to embrace the blessing of every moment; to pursue our dreams; to do what is good.
That’s all we’ve got time for.
But I liked the idea of it, particularly given the current state of the world.
That Moon, brighter and bigger than usual, had a lot to shine on.
In Japan.
In Libya.
Where you are.
Where I am.
It’s impossible to address the current state of the world in one short essay. There are the actions of nature, which can be blamed on no one. There are the dangers of cultivating nuclear energy, which reflect taking calculated risks in an effort to meet the world’s complex needs. There is the chain reaction of unprecedented activism throughout the Middle East and North Africa – a man-made tsunami of social discontent.
… When I was in my 20’s, a boyfriend introduced me to the writings of Henry Miller, and I quickly devoured Tropic of Capricorn and Sexus. I used to joke that I’d read Miller with a dictionary in one hand and a vibrator in the other. Seriously – his erotic passages were as raw as they get. But that wasn’t the content that kept me reading. Miller’s writing climbs to amazing levels, eloquently reflecting his keen sense of the metaphysical, his passion for life and living, and his acknowledgment that the world is a precarious place, making every moment all the more valuable.
I have many favorite passages from both of those books, but the one that has remained in my head is this one, from Sexus:
Imagination is the voice of daring. If there is anything God-like about God it is that. He dared to imagine everything.
… I find the concept of God fascinating. I am, as they say on match dot com, “spiritual but not religious.” In fact, I’m so spiritual that I haven’t even told me what I believe. Bottom line is that I am utterly humbled by what I know for sure, and that is this: we’re all living on a big round thing that’s spinning so fast we don’t fall off.
Talk about imagination! Talk about daring! Anyway, acknowledging that little bit of proved science is pretty much all I can handle. If I think about it for more than a few minutes, I have to lie down.
And these days, it seems that this big round thing we’re all living on is really pissed off.
I don’t blame it.
And populations around the globe are upset by their societal circumstances.
I don’t blame them either.
Part of me thinks it’s damned remarkable we’ve come this far.
… I decided to dig into my old copy of Sexus to see what preceded that line that’s stayed with me. Interesting. Among other things, I love what it says about personal power:
The prisoner is not the one who has committed a crime, but the one who clings to his crime and lives it over and over. We are all guilty of crime, the great crime of not living life to the full. But we are all potentially free. We can stop thinking of what we have failed to do and do whatever lies within our power. What these powers that are in us may be no one has truly dared to imagine. That they are infinite we will realize the day we admit to ourselves that imagination is everything. Imagination is the voice of daring…
Yes, the powers within us are infinite, but only as long as we are alive.
That’s the catch; life is finite.
What we owe to the creative, imaginative, daring force that put us here is this: to embrace the blessing of every moment; to pursue our dreams; to do what is good.
That’s all we’ve got time for.
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