January 25, 2008
Guacamole and Chips
Speaking to an audience in Nevada this week, Hillary Clinton was heard to say:
“All of our problems are interconnected, but we treat them as though one is guacamole and one is chips.”
I find this fascinating, though not necessarily for political reasons. Some commentators wondered if this was her idea of a metaphor that would resonate with a Hispanic audience, but I have to think Hill is smarter than that. One thing no one has ever accused her of being is a dumbass.
No, what really gets me is the Zenlike, circular nature of the statement. It sounds like something Shunryu Suzuki might have said. In one sense it seems clear enough, but when you stop to think about it it’s a real head-scratcher. Are chips and guacamole not connected? What happens when you dip the chip in the guac and put it in your mouth? Are chip, dip, and mouth not then all one for that moment? One question leads to the next until you begin to feel pleasantly lightheaded.
Maybe rather than pandering clumsily to Latins, Hillary was really sending a coded message to America’s stoners: “With Kucinich gone, you have to support somebody, and why not me? Remember during Bill’s adminstration how you could channel-surf without getting bummed out by news about the war and stuff? Those were good times. It can be like that again. Vote for Hill—she’s real Chill.”
Or something like that.
Posted by bill at 2:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
December 22, 2007
The Victory of Light
(Transcribed from The I Ching or Book of Changes, the Richard Wilhelm translation, rendered into English by Cary F. Baynes.)
Hexagram 24: Fu/Return (The Turning Point)
above K’UN (The Receptive, Earth)
below CHÉN (The Arousing, Thunder)
The idea of a turning point arises from the fact that after the dark lines have pushed all of the light lines upward and out of the hexagram, another light line enters the hexagram from below. The time of darkness is past. The winter solstice brings the victory of light. This hexagram is linked with the eleventh month, the month of the solstice (December-January).
THE JUDGMENT:
Return. Success.
Going out and coming in without error.
Friends come and go without blame.
To and fro goes the way.
On the seventh day comes return.
It furthers one to have somewhere to go.
After a time of decay comes the turning point. The powerful light that has been banished returns. There is movement, but it is not brought about by force. The upper trigram K’un is characterized by devotion; thus the movement is natural, arising spontaneously. For this reason the transformation of the old becomes easy. The old is discarded and the new is introduced. Both measures accord with the time; therefore no harm results. Societies of people sharing the same views are formed. But since these groups come together in full public knowledge and are in harmony with the time, all selfish seperatist tendencies are excluded, and no mistake is made. The idea of Return is based on the course of nature. The movement is cyclic, and the course completes itself. Therefore it is not necessary to hasten anything artificially. Everything comes of itself at the appointed time. This is the meaning of heaven and earth.
All movements are accomplished in six stages, and the seventh brings return. Thus the winter solstice, with which the decline of the year begins, comes in the seventh month after summer solstice; so too sunrise comes in the seventh double hour after sunset. Therefore seven is the number of the young light, and it arises when six, the number of the great darkness, is increased by one. In this way the state of rest gives place to movement.
THE IMAGE:
Thunder within the earth;
The image of the turning point.
Thus the kings of antiquity closed the passes
At the time of solstice.
Merchants and strangers did not go about,
And the ruler
Did not travel through the province.
The winter solstice has always been celebrated in China as the resting time of the year—a custom that survives in the time of rest observed at the new year. In winter the life energy, symbolized by thunder, the Arousing, is still underground. Movement is just at its beginning; therefore it must be strengthened by rest, so that it will not be dissipated by being used prematurely. This principle, i.e., of allowing energy that is renewing itself to reinforced by rest, applies to all similar situations. The return of health after illness, the return of understanding after an estrangement: everything must be treated tenderly and with care at the beginning, so that the return may lead to a flowering.
Posted by bill at 2:34 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
December 4, 2006
A few words of seasonal relevance
Every existence in nature, every existence in the human world, every cultural work that we create, is something which was given, or is being given to us, relatively speaking. But as everything is originally one, we are, in actuality, giving out everything. Moment after moment we are creating something, and this is the joy of our life. But this “I” which is creating and always giving out something is not the “small I”; it is the “big I.” Even though you do not realize the oneness of this “big I” with everything, when you give something you feel good, because at that time you feel at one with what you are giving. This is why it feels better to give than to take.
—Shunryu Suzuki
Posted by bill at 10:18 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
November 30, 2006
A few words from Virginia Woolf
“Like a work of art,” she repeated, looking from her canvas to the drawing-room steps and back again. She must rest for a moment. And, resting, looking from one to the other vaguely, the old question which traversed the sky of the soul perpetually, the vast, the general question which was apt to particularise itself at such moments as these, when she released faculties that had been on the strain, stood over her, paused over her, darkened over her. What is the meaning of life? That was all—a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark.
—To the Lighthouse
Posted by bill at 9:51 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
November 10, 2006
A few words from Steven Wright
“You never know what you have until it’s gone, and I wanted to know what I had, so I got rid of everything.”
Posted by bill at 3:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 2, 2006
A few basic instructions
What is efficacy? It is effectiveness in submission to what is right, most effective in abiding in faithfulness to rectitude. Only thus is it an auspicious path that is sound in the beginning and sound at the end. One aims for the submission of unruliness, the rectification of error, cultivating oneself and controlling the mind, getting rid of all seeds of vicious circles, not letting any pollution remain in the mind; being utterly empty, serene and sincere, the human mentality does not arise and the mind of Tao comes into being. After rectitude comes creativity, and while flexible is firm, and while receptive one can be strong: Whatever one creates grows, and whatever grows bears fruit, and the fruits are all good. So the submission and receptivity of abiding in rectitude is no small matter.
—The Taoist I Ching
translated by Thomas Cleary
Posted by bill at 10:05 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 16, 2006
A few words from somebody I never heard of before
But they seem to be on to something:
What guarantee is there that the five senses, taken together, do cover the whole of possible experience? They cover simply our actual experience, our human knowledge of facts or events. There are gaps between the fingers; there are gaps between the senses. In these gaps is the darkness which hides the connection between things…. This darkness is the source of our vague fears and anxieties, but also the home of the gods. They alone see the connections, the total relevance of everything that happens; that which now comes to us in bits and pieces, the “accidents” which exist only in our heads, in our limited perceptions.
—Idris Parry, “Kafka, Rilke, and Rumplestiltskin”
Posted by bill at 3:01 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
July 15, 2006
A few words from Douglas Adams
The universe, as has been observed before, is an unsettlingly big place, a fact which for the sake of a quiet life most people tend to ignore.
Many would happily move to somewhere rather smaller of their own devising, and this is what most beings in fact do.
—The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
Posted by bill at 4:07 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
July 5, 2006
A few words from Alan Watts
As it is, we are merely bolting our lives—gulping down undigested experiences as fast as we can stuff them in—because awareness of our own existence is so superficial and so narrow that nothing seems to us more boring than simple being. If I ask you what you did, saw, heard, smelled, touched, and tasted yesterday, I am likely to get nothing more than the thin, sketchy outline of the few things that you noticed, and of those only what you thought worth remembering. Is it surprising that an existence so experienced seems so empty and bare that its hunger for an infinite future is insatiable?
But suppose you could answer, “It would take me forever to tell you, and I am much more interested in what’s happening now.” How is it possible that a being with such sensitive jewels as the eyes, such enchanted musical instruments as the ears, and such a fabulous arabesque of nerves as the brain can experience itself as anything less than a god? And, when you consider that this incalculably subtle organism is inseparable from the still more marvelous patterns of its environment—from the minutest electrical designs to the whole company of galaxies—how is it conceivable that the incarnation of all eternity can be bored with being?
—The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are
Posted by bill at 1:55 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
May 21, 2006
Verse 53
And now, a few words from Lao Tzu, as transmitted to me postally by Gentleman James Foley. Keep in mind that though the translation is modern, these words were written 2500 years ago.
Tao Te Ching, Verse 53
If I had the least wisdom
I could follow the Tao very well
My only fear would be going my own way
The great path is simple and direct
But people prefer byways
Look how magnificent civilization has become
The women in the finest fashion
The men with the slickest gadgets
Food and drink everywhere
Wealth and finery abound!
Yet in the shadow of this splendor,
The economy slows
Personal debt is very high
Possessions have accumulated in excess
This robber's extravagance goes against the grain of the universe
It is not Tao
Indeed
Posted by bill at 8:00 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
December 21, 2005
Fu: Winter Solstice, Awakening
The pulsing of thunder deep down in the earth is hardly noticeable.
The circle is closed. The end and the beginning meet one another in the winter solstice. The thunder, hidden in the earth, indicates that movement is coming. It cannot yet be heard, only felt. So it is also with the return of light, symbolized by the strong bottom line. Days are lengthening again, but this is noticeable only after the seventh day.
Fu is about the triumph of life, created by the interaction of heaven and earth. Light will always defeat darkness, which is why progress will be guaranteed with every movement.
The wise rulers of the past interrupted all activity on this day. This is a time of silent awakening.
-Frits Blok, I Ching: A Spiritual Guide, Chapter 24
(For another interpretation of hexagram 24, see the Pink Floyd’s Piper at the Gates of Dawn.)
Posted by bill at 11:53 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
December 4, 2005
And now, a brief seasonal message
I recently came across this piece, which beautifully sums up how I feel about Christmas, in the pages of Playboy magazine, of all things. I bought it because it had Marilyn Monroe on the cover. I have very little interest in the fake plastic women that populate the magazine’s pages these days, so after Marilyn I found myself reading the articles.
Anyway, it is entitled “A Christmas Sermon” and was written by the agnostic thinker and speaker Robert Ingersoll in 1981. I recommend that you print it out, put it in your wallet, and pull it out and read it whenever holiday stress starts to get you down.
The good part of Christmas is not always Christian; it is generally pagan—that is to say, human, natural.
Christianity did not come with tidings of great joy but with a message of eternal grief. It came with the threat of everlasting torture on its lips. It meant war on Earth and perdition hereafter.
It taught some good things—the beauty of love and kindness in man. But as a torchbearer, as a bringer of joy, it has been a failure. It has given infinite consequences to the acts of finite beings, crushing the soul with a responsibility too great for mortals to bear. It has filled the future with fear and flame and made God the keeper of an eternal penitentiary, destined to be the home of nearly all the sons of men.
Long before Christ was born the Sun God triumphed over the powers of darkness. About the time that we call Christmas the days began perceptibly to lengthen. Our barbarian ancestors were worshippers of the sun, and they celebrated his victory over the hosts of night. Such a festival was natural and beautiful. The most natural of all religions is the worship of the sun. Christianity adopted this festival. It borrowed from the pagans the best it has.
I believe in Christmas and in every day that has been set apart for joy. We in America have too much work and not enough play. We are too much like the English.
I think it was Heinrich Heine who said that he thought a blaspheming Frenchman was a more pleasing object to God than a praying Englishman. We take our joys too sadly. I am in favor of all the good free days—the more the better.
Christmas is a good day to forgive and forget—a good day to throw away prejudices and hatreds—a good day to fill your heart and your house, and the hearts and houses of others, with sunshine.
Posted by bill at 8:03 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
October 12, 2005
Hexagram du jour
When clouds rise in the sky, it is a sign that it will rain. There is nothing to do but to wait until the rain falls. It is the same in life when destiny is at work. We should not worry and seek to shape the future by interfering in things before the time is ripe. We should quietly fortify the body with food and drink and the mind with gladness and good cheer. Fate comes when it will, and thus we are ready.
-I Ching, Hexagram 5
(Willhelm/Baynes translation)
Posted by bill at 4:19 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 5, 2005
What it says on the north wall of Dave's Coffee Shop
"Hatred ever kills, love never dies. Such is the difference between the two. What is obtained by love is retained for all time. What is obtained by hatred proves a burden in reality, for it increases hatred. The duty of a human being is to diminish hatred and to promote love."
-Mohandas K. Gandhi
Posted by bill at 8:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
August 1, 2005
Homemade cookies
"Don't be involved in making too many homemade cookies, your ideas of big or small, good or bad. Make only as many as you need. Without food you cannot survive, so it is good to make cookies, but don't make too many. It is good to have problems, and without problems we cannot survive, but not too many. You don't need to create problems for yourself; you have enough problems."
-Shunryu Suzuki
Posted by bill at 12:42 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
June 20, 2005
Among the many things I sometimes forget...
…is that the late Charles Schulz, creator of “Peanuts,” was a sage in his own way. Check out this strip, which appeared in today’s Chronicle (I was gonna just link to the Peanuts site, but today’s strip on there is completely different for some reason, so I had to scan it—sorry, Charlie).
Posted by bill at 1:53 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
May 21, 2005
The Buddha on the road
Lao Tzu (or someone like him) once said: “If you see the Buddha on the road, kill him.”
I puzzled over this for a long time. It’s pretty counterintuitive—“Wait, we like the Buddha. Why should we kill him just because he’s on the road?” But as the years have gone by, I think I’ve gotten a decent handle on what he was talking about.
When you’re traveling, life seems so much easier. Well, unless things are going horribly wrong on the road; but when you’re moving along nicely your problems seem distant, everything seems possible, and every once in a while you get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, you finally have this whole life thing figured out.
Which is a nice feeling. But then, eventually, you come home again, and there are all those problems, right where you left them. Things that seemed like solutions when you were on the road rarely pan out. Or is it just me? I’d be curious to hear what other people think.
Anyway, I think now that Lao Tzu (or someone like him) was cautioning us against looking for answers outside ourselves: in a distant locale, or in some self-help book, or in something you found on the Internet. You can get useful clues that way, but the real answers are found inside, i.e. at home.
At least that’s what I’m thinking right now, here, today.
Posted by bill at 11:16 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack