Showing posts with label joseph Campbell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label joseph Campbell. Show all posts

Monday, April 6, 2015

A BACKWARD GLANCE AT THE NEW AGE



Saw a picture of a chalkboard sign a little bit ago on facebook that said, "When life gives you lemons, ask for tequila and salt." Had to save it. I've seen a mess of kinda humorous sayings about lemons, like make lemonade, according to authors of laugh-all-the-way-to-the-bank books toward becoming a better person. This is head out of the clouds, feet on the ground. I don't mean to throw off on that period, the Seventies, Eighties, into the Nineties, now pop culture history, it helped a lot of people, self included. I say it's gone, but only in that it is no longer new. Even Sparta has yoga classes now. Sparta has coffee shops where political correctness is the rule. It seems like self-awareness opened up in that time of a popular interest in such things as astrology, the I Ching, even reading. The time saw emergence of some everyday life applications of knowledge from a century of focusing the scientific method on the mind. Lamas were writing books revealing theretofore hidden Tibetan wisdom. Joseph Campbell, reserved reading for graduate students, became popular reading as the grand old man of the wisdom of our origins. The time of Women Who Run With The Wolves. Noam Chomsky now appears to be Campbell's replacement as wise old man of our culture teaching us about plutocracy. Much that was learned then was incorporated into the lives of so many people, so individually, impossible to know how many, I believe many of our lives improved as a result of what we learned from reading, workshops, New Dimensions weekly radio interview show. Largely middle-class people tapped into the wave, then Oprah introduced self-help, self-awareness, to working class women. the mothers of the next generation. 



Though this period of time seems far away now, I did much inner work in that time, all of it on my own, reading what drew my attention. I didn't go for the unicorns and rainbows or the believe your way to wealth formulas, like Shakti Gawain's meditate your way to wealth plans or Marsha Sinetar's do what you love the money will follow. Exceptions came up in the interview and I loved Sinetar's reply, "I didn't say how much." I heard some brilliant minds on New Dimensions and some wise ones. The truly wise ones didn't have much to say. They don't chatter. They have no cocktail party experience. They don't care about dead air time. They don't think of the interview calling attention to themselves, requiring performance. The only thing about the interview for them was exhaustion from being required to talk so much. They don't write in journals, Interviewed by New Dimensions today. Most of the ones interviewed were advertising themselves, selling their books on the book-signing circuit. A time came when that's all it was, people writing books and leading workshops, telling a roomful of people what's wrong with them. In the early years, they had some fascinating people interviewed. Eventually it was like the people interviewed were lobbied by publishers. Like the hippie time, the self-awareness time came and went. Didn't last a long time, but brought with it some essential changes in our culture. I can see it a version of a shamanic ritual. Perform what you want to see out in the world, a small number of people get together of like mind and perform the change they want to see. Their action reverberates to a larger circle and to another, on and on. It's like a spiritual wave passed through us collectively, each of us receiving what we were ready for from the wave.



One of my more important learnings incorporated from the time was readiness, when an issue surfaces, to deal with it. Deal with it and let it go. I felt like that time introduced values into a society whose values were of another time and did not hold anymore, no longer practical. The American emphasis on money, from the founding moment onward, has inspired a whole population to give up the old values that went counter to self-advertising, making a good first impression, for more money. In the old ways, humility was an important value. After two-thirds of a century of television in service to Mammon, arrogance has become the preferred attitude. It is the time when the light of the spirit wanes to near nothing. And what follows the waning of the moon is the waxing of the moon, a cycle. I see the popular wave with us now of wanting to be a better person an outer ring from the initial splash that was the New Age. Before 1970, self-help books were rare, spiritual books were rare, psychology books concerning everyday life were rare. Spiritual teachings from the East appeared, one after the other. In a way, it was a quiet reformation beginning in the middle class, and passed to the working class of mostly non-readers where the two classes intersected, Oprah. Self-awareness came to many from the wave manifesting in the Narcissism of the time. A magazine called Self. Body awareness took a leap with gyms everywhere and advertising specific to hyper-exercise. The egoic "philosophy" of Ayn Rand was educating Wall Street and the politicians to practice me first and everybody else last. Self-awareness came in all levels of getting it, from the spirit to the body. Individuals received from it what resonated with them. My own spiritual awareness came forward in 1975. My interest in the time was matters of the spirit and the mind.        



In that time my spirit began its journey to self-realization, which sounds like egoism, but is the contrary. Self-realization only comes after ego goes away. Remember, the kingdom of heaven is within? It doesn't mean beyond the clouds in outer space. It means within, one's own interior true self, the observer of our thoughts and dreams, consciousness. Learning about the application of karma to everyday life made a difference in my attitude toward life. Somebody pulls some shit on me, I want to get them back, and really mean it, unto wishing I could plot murder, I've learned to let it go. A karmic return will settle the matter perfectly. Plan revenge from my mind, it will either be too little or too much. Let karma, you get what you give, the natural law, handle the situation. From the moment I turn it over to karma, I'm at peace, no more thought necessary on the matter. I laugh about it. I don't need to know what the return might be. I already know it will be perfect to the occasion. Somebody I know who knows him asked me what I'm going to do about it. I said, Nothing. Why? It will take care of itself. He just opened the door and invited somebody to do the same to him one surprise day down the road. Friend was puzzled at the moment, but got it. I've seen him, since, wax furious with somebody unto wanting revenge, then calm right down, saying, "It'll turn around and bite him in the ass," and let it go. It's important to treat others as we want to be treated. It's how we will be treated in turn. I'm aware that when I talk about somebody in a gossipy way, I've made it compulsory for that individual to talk about me the same way, to the good or the bad. This awareness of karma, another learning from the wave of the New Age, has brought peace into my mind, made my later years much more interesting with a clarity of mind I never dared hope would unfold.




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Wednesday, March 12, 2014

A GLITCH IN MY WORLD

all photos by vada, 2

I'm feeling neither here nor there. I feel connected to the blogathon, like I need to write for it, but am done with it, can't go on. I went into it open, giving it the chance to be what it is, to be a beneficial exercise if that's indeed what it is, but I didn't find anything. The thing was about mixing art up with business. It's not that simplistic. It didn't speak to me, didn't take ahold of my interest. Reading a new book, if it doesn't take ahold of me by page 50, I'm done. I'm all with what the blogathon group is doing, but it does not include me. My interests in this time of the life are more philosophical than studying how to be an artist entrepreneur. I'm not laying blame, pointing the finger or even suggesting it is something about the project I found objectionable. Not at all. It doesn't serve my interests any more than a workshop on how to take a gun apart and put it back together. I don't even want to know. I couldn't help but think my blog is my blog. It doesn't feel right making it essay answers to somebody else's questions. It felt something like an awkward vibration. I don't have a great deal of calendar time ahead. It's not like I have a checklist I am working on to complete before I croak. My attitude about the end is when it happens, nothing about this world matters. Two seconds after the spirit leaves the body it does not matter any more to me that a threatening letter came in the mail today from the tax office. The county is desperate too. Income has gone way down in the county since year 2000, businesses closed, less tax revenue coming in. The world of money is so objectionable to me it makes the blogathon emphasis on art business of no interest. The American emphasis on money sees everything in relation to money, takes the word value for price. I do tend to see this period of collective obsession with money an interesting time in our collective spiritual path.
 
vada
 
This time we're in appears a dead time in our "progression," but I'm not sure it's really a progression and I doubt it is a dead time. American history is a continuous string of wars and the country's only purpose has ever been money. We Americans have contributed a great deal to this time of rapid change. In a time of old calcified belief systems falling away from inability to function in light of the scientific method, money seems a neutral point to fix upon to facilitate shedding old belief systems that don't work anymore. When money is the one and only, peripheral stuff is nothing. The business ethic that it doesn't matter who is spending their money your way as long as they're spending it, clears the trail for whatever is coming next, the new that fills in where the old fell away. It makes me sad to see that the American obsession with money will ultimately come to nothing. An awful lot of people will be damaged. Money is not a loving god. I'm recalling an illustration Joseph Campbell made of modern man, who spends his life climbing the ladder of success and when he reaches the top, he finds it was the wrong ladder. I see television with a role similar to money's, to bring everything to neutral, flush all belief systems, one at a time, focus attention on the flickering screen and fleeting cash while everything changes around us, diverts our collective attention, pushes our reactive ignorance out of the way. It's a time of big change, evidently best got through unconsciously. Sleep through it. Dream it. Evidently democracy is a belief system that has to go, too. At least in the American form. The international corporations have crippled our democracy and our economy, perhaps irreversibly. To go on with democracy, it will have to take another form. But that's not my concern. It means I have to be more paranoid about government and law enforcement excesses. Don't give a cop an opportunity to shoot me; they shoot to kill now. It's legal now for them to break my door off its hinges, charge in here, empty their pistols on me sitting at the computer, and it be the wrong house. All they have to do is say, "He had a gun," and nobody questions it, procedure. It's a dangerous time for the poor people, white as well as black, the expendables.

vada
 
News today of someone I know, someone I like, a junkie attempted to OD a couple days ago, was sent to emergency room where they detoxed him and sent him home. Mother wouldn't have him in the house, let him fill a backpack with what he wanted and sent him on his way. There's nothing she can do. Largely because she's his enabler. He's looking at a trial coming up for selling pills he'd stolen from his mother to a cop, and his horizon has at least six years of prison. He's been acting like it's no big deal to such an extent I and a few others believed he ratted and got off. Now it turns out he's scared literally unto death. I feel a longing to extend myself to him, but can't do it. He has no resources, no job, no place to stay. He can't stay here and I don't have what it takes to deal with a junkie. Maybelle Carter was good with junkies, saw Johnny Cash through his junkie period, and I have a friend who is good with junkies, but I am not. I already know it, don't need to learn again. I have empathic feelings about what he's going through, but also know he is beyond any help I can give him. There is too much he doesn't get, and I don't need a giant baby to take care of. I had to talk to somebody like that years ago, who wanted to take up temporary residence, saying, "I hate everybody but you." I had to say, "Inside a very short time, less than two weeks, you will hate me like you hate  everybody else. Include me in that number now." I don't anticipate seeing this guy in the world much longer. He is terrified of prison. Plus, I've been around when he was given a straight-forward talk about what it's like in prison by somebody who had done a couple years. It scared the hell out of me, and he acted like, no problem dude. His direction all his life has been a downhill slide. He paid no attention in school. Had a job at Hardees until he was arrested, has been drifting downward the few years I've known him. He has no motivation to help himself, wants to be asleep all the time. I imagine he'll be successful next OD attempt. I can't help but see it inevitable, karma, like he didn't come into a body this time to stay. With no education, he can't live in this world. There is more to it than watching tv and listening to Wide Spread Panic in a stupor.

vada

It bothers me to see someone I know and like falling into a pit. I know how easy it is. All the time, all the way along in my life I have felt like it wouldn't take much to fall into homelessness and drop to the bottom. Let go of the will to get by and it's an easy drift downwards. In my own case, I have no motivation to do well in this world because I don't believe its belief system and don't want its rewards. The only interests I have that keep me going are aesthetic. And I have enough aesthetic interest to keep my interest going all the time. I'm more interested in aesthetic and philosophical concerns than making money. I'd rather live poor with a rich interior life than live in wealth with inner self in poverty. I never wanted to be somebody who works his way up a skyscraper and jumps off the roof. My heart is heavy this evening with concern I can do nothing about, the same as I can't cut firewood on somebody else's land without permission. I already know I can't help him, by knowing him and by knowing myself. My friends who know him agree prison may be what he needs, though I don't see him surviving prison if he survives the anxiety of the wait. I'm sad for him because he's as innocent as a three year old. I feel like it is a criminal society that makes a criminal of him. He's not a criminal. He's just somebody who can't take care of himself in this world. Whence his lifetime drift downward. He likes to talk peace and pacifism, but they're only clichés to him. I'm in full empathy with him, but dare not jump into his pit with him. He does not want to come out. Nor is he the charming baby he pretends to be. He's past thirty, has run out of excuses and justifications. He needs help, not prison, but our society doesn't help people like him. And I can't either. Perhaps this bothers me the most, that I am unable to help him. I learned long ago I am not capable of helping other people with mental/emotional issues. I dare attempt to do no more to "help" somebody than I can do metaphorically with my hands. I dare not play psychiatrist. I know that. I have to allow other people to make their own decisions. It's hard to care and it's hard not to care.

vada
 
 
 
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