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once again i’m incapacitated by an awful cold. however, today is world philosophy day, so i just have to throw my thoughts into the mix. because, you know, the world, and especially the world of philosophy, would be so very much impoverished without my snot-nosed words of wisdom.
last year i met up with one of my old philosophy profs who i hold in high esteem for a number of reasons, one of them being that he had a wonderful way of facilitating classes. i took philosophy 101 with him, at a community college, so you can imagine that there were all kinds of, um, “interesting” people attending, with lots of wild, wonderful and often extremely woolly ideas, which they spat out with gusto. this prof had the lovely ability of patiently listening to the most hair-raising drivel, picking out from it the one little sentence that made sense and then exclaiming enthusiastically: “fabulous idea, mr. borschthead! now let’s investigate this a little further” – and then bringing the class back on track.
at any rate, at our little get-together for a coffee at starbucks last year i told him of my dream/idea/hope of writing my PhD thesis in novel form. the poor guy was aghast. novels, he snorted, have nothing to do with either science or philosophy. my attempts at pointing at dostoevsky, proust and camus were met with disdain. simple minded stuff, totally unthought-through.
on the other hand, another philosophy prof with whom i had a series of absolutely delightful thought exchanges, was a catalyst in my writing my book of poetry. he, too, was not overly conversant with the convoluted thought patterns of creative forms of writing (why are poetry and prose called creative, by the way? are philosophic, scientific or business forms of writing, to name just a few, uncreative?) … where was i … ah, yes, not conversant with poetic thoughts – but he was curious about it and encouraged me to “translate” my poetry, which then became the theme for my tea table book.
by the way, both of them let me play with my papers. i wrote one in the form of a play, and another as a letter from leibniz to freud. i’m still very grateful they indulged me. they weren’t my most brilliant philosophical spewings but boy, was it fun.
and of course i’m not exactly the first person to think about the connection between literature and philosophy. the good people from the university of tampere in finland (those europeans, ey?) have put together a whole bunch of links for philosophy of literature. this leads to interesting books like between philosophy and poetry
between philosophy and poetry examines the complex and controversial relation that has informed literary theory since ancient times: the difference between philosophy and poetry. the book explores three specific areas: the practice of writing with respect to orality; the interpretive modes of poetic and philosophical discourse as self-narration and historical understanding; how rhythm marks the differential spaces in poetry and philosophy.
the book brings together some of the most prominent international scholars in the fields of philosophy and literature to examine the differences between orality and writing, the signs and traces of gender in writing, the historical dimension of the tension between philosophical and poetic language, and the future possibility of a musical thinking that would go beyond the opposition between philosophy and poetry.
in the final instance, rhythm is the force to be reckoned with and is the essential element in an understanding of philosophy and poetry. rhythm in effect provides a musical ethics of philosophy, for musical thinking goes beyond the metaphysical opposition between philosophy and poetry and sets the frame for post-philosophical practice.
philosophy and literature challenges the cant and pretensions of academic priesthoods by publishing an assortment of lively, wide-ranging essays, notes, and reviews that are written in clear, jargon-free prose. in his regular column, editor denis dutton targets the fashions and inanities of contemporary intellectual life.
fault no lease
add thump whimsy
aver
a sash onto
a
mire
here bernstein undertakes a phonetic transposition to demonstrate the notion of ‘similarity’. simply put, ‘fault no lease’ picks up the vowel sounds of ‘walk slowly’ (/o:/, /ou/, /i:/) as bernstein mirrors the phonetic cluster with different linguistic units. ‘over’ and ‘aver’ as well as ‘the’ and ‘a’ (/ə/) also share the same sounds. the punning also works visually, particularly in the second lines: ‘jump’ and ‘thump’. to reiterate one of benjamin’s statements: ‘if words meaning the same thing in different languages are arranged about the signifier as their center, we have to inquire how they all […] are similar to the signified in the center’.
now i have never taken a course in philosophy and literature so i am sure – and i’m not saying this tongue-in-cheek – that there are precious joys in this niche of philosophy that i have never tasted and therefore am in no position to judge their scrumptuousness.
having said this, i find hard to imagine the usefulness of taking this lovely piece of nonsense or dada poetry or whatever pigeonhole you want to put it into, and throw it on the operating table for such crass vivisection. undertakes a phonetic transposition to demonstrate? poets among my dear readers, how often do you do that? how often do you put pen to paper and say, hm, i think this morning i’ll do me some phonetic clustering with different linguistic units?
is this why my old philosophy prof rolled his eyes when i said i wanted to write a novel for my PhD?
thoughts … thank you!
gigablonde offers making peace with meditation, something i can relate to very well. she opens up space for a whole new relationship with meditation through principles of jack kornfield’s buddhist meditation for beginners.
meet whatever arises with kindness and balance and wisdom … and whatever comes to you can be a part of your meditation.
“oh, here’s remembering. thank you for your contribution.”
“worry, thank you.”
“aah, planning.”
buddhism in thailand: ordaining as a monk
we have two posts relating to thai buddhism this month. here is an interesting description of a thai tradition:
in thailand it’s a tradition to ordain as a monk at least once in your lifetime. some ordain for just a few hours while others do it for a whole year. traditionally, it was done for a period of three months known as the rains retreat. ordaining gives you a chance to study and practice lord buddha’s teachings and it gives your parents the opportunity to offer you the monk robes, alms bowl and other necessities.
for someone who isn’t the least familiar with buddhist culture, it would be only natural to view monks as beggars and therefore a burden to society but according to buddhist teachings giving and generosity are meritorious deeds.
thai charms and amulets
dr. callaway’s blog has only been around for a short while – talk about a niche blog. it concentrates exclusively on lucky charms and mystical amulets from thailand, made and blessed by buddhist monks. i think there’s quite some potential there – i liked the stories callaway tells, and i hope he keeps up with this blog. good luck charms are a way of life in thailand and southeast asia. it is believed that when chants and prayers are spoken to these charms, the spirits invoked will reciprocate to the owner of the charm or amulet, good luck and protection from harm.
of course this is very different from the more cerebral, less mystical buddhism that we hear about in the west – but i think it’s useful to remember that buddhism, a religion practiced by millions and millions of people (300 million is a number i’ve often seen). with so many adherents, there is a wide variety of practices, and i find it quite fascinating to look at all the different varieties. at any rate, here is dr. callaway’s post, lucky charms.
timeless lessons
reading this post, i am reminded of a twitter remark by merlin mann today, “90% of all self-help is buddhism with comfortable chairs and a service mark”. flippancy aside, i agree with him, although i’d probably refer to buddhist “techniques” rather than buddhism. buddhism as a whole is a rich historical, cultural, spiritual and theological stew, and part of that stew are these techniques – the things practiced by many buddhists: mindfulness, meditation, compassion, etc. of those techniques, many are totally straightforward, and that’s what this last post is about: peaceful simplicity: 10 refreshing ways to live in the here and now. this excerpt is about the practice of smiling:
the foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet. feeling joyful is not paramount for presence, but it’s one of the most powerful ways to induce it. joy creates an almost immediate sense of expansion — an inner smile that’s like a warm bath. some call this warm bath “flow” or “spirit.” experiencing it connects us to ourselves and to everyone and everything around us.
think about someone or something that you love. this could be a child, a corner in nature, or a cherished memory. whatever you choose, make sure that just contemplating upon it creates an automatic inner smile. then surrender to that inner smile. let it light you up. feel it spread through your body and even beyond it, uniting you joyously with your surroundings.
NaNoWriMo
oh, and before i go, i need to say something about NaNoWriMo, right? here’s a hello then to enlighten up’s buddhist blogger lans in texas, who’s not blogging this month because he, too, is working on completing a 50,000 word novel in november.
if you have a buddhist blog post you’d like to contribute, please send it to me here, or, if you have a hard time connecting to blog carnival, drop me a line.
welcome, welcome, welcome! this is the 12th edition of the buddhist carnival – one year of a monthly celebration of bloggers who write about buddhism. as usual, i’ll post it in two parts. it occurred to me a while ago that there is something decidedly un-buddhist or at least un-zen in a buddhist post that’s completely overloaded with information.
i’ll post part 2 on monday, november 17.
the peace of wild things
as usual, we start with a poem, a beautiful one by wendell berry
the peace of wild things
when despair for the world grows in me
and i wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
i go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
i come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. i come into the presence of still water.
and i feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. for a time
i rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
a NaNoWriMo-er walks her talk
dharmashanti “dharma” kelleher writes fiction and non-fiction, focusing on the effects of addiction, depression and discrimination on the LGBT community. glad to find her here in the blogosphere; it looks like we have a lot of interests in common. her work is shown here because of my promise to talk about NaNoWriMo in every post this month; she’s participating in it, too. i really enjoyed this post, what it takes to get what you want. here’s an excerpt:
if you want a world based on respect, peace and compassion, then that’s what you have to put into the world. and you can only put it into the world if you allow it to exist unhindered within you. in other words, you have to let go of hate and practice the way of peace. as within, so without.
look at the presidential election. in a contest between hope and fear, the people chose hope. in a contest between unity and division, we chose unity.
“i can’t do what they did,” we say. people think that revolutionaries like gandhi and dr. king were saints. they weren’t.
i’d say she’s walking her talk – a concept that’s very important to me. in fact, some time ago, in a discussion about motivation, i realized that that’s one of my biggest motivators. if you want to get me to do something, make a convincing case that that would mean i’d be walking my talk, and i’ll show up.
the buddhist path could be summarized as having two main aspects. the removal of dysfunctional states of mind, such as anger, attachment and ignorance and the development of functional minds such as compassion and wisdom – the wisdom knowing the nature of reality.
loden jinpa will also be hosting next month’s buddhist carnival – please bookmark his blog and visit on december 15!
emptiness
the last contribution for today comes from ambud, who talks, among other things about one of biggest myths about buddhism. i am always surprised how even some people who have investigated buddhism a little bit tend to think that buddhism is about complete detachment and disinterest – the nihilism that ambud mentions. this misconception often arises in the context of “emptiness”.
whenever we work with emptiness we must be on guard to the extremes of nihilism and absolutism. our path is the ‘middle way’, between nihilism and absolutism, and as such rejects both nothingness and ‘me-ness’. nihilism refutes the existence of things, which contradicts reality; we can plainly see that objects do exist. the buddhist argument is with how things exist, not that things are non-existent.
absolutism is the opposite extreme which avows predefined characteristics both in the substratum of the universe and in individual objects themselves. absolutism is the assertion that objects exist intrinsically, without dependence on other factors.
see you on monday for part 2! and if you have a buddhist blog post you’d like to contribute, please send it to me here, or, if you have a hard time connecting to blog carnival, drop me a line.
the image from a thai buddhist temple comes from aimforawesome
if there is something you want in life and still do not have it, never blame yourself for it. because if you can dream it, you can have it!if you haven’t reached your goals yet, it is not because you are not smart enough or capable enough – in fact you have everything you need to achieve your goals… you are just missing the right tools: information, skills, and mindset, to do it. and that is all learnable!so never stop dreaming and never give up going after your dreams. enjoy every moment of your journey, because it is your journey and not necessarily the end result, that makes life exciting, worthwhile and fulfilling!
once again i’m part of a blog book tour. blog book tours are always exciting for me; they combine three things that have fascinated me forever: books, IT, and community. come to think of it, that’s probably also why i’m so tickled to be part of NaNoWriMo, the online community of people who are crazy enough to try and write 50,000 words towards a novel in the month of november.
the tour i’m part of this time around is for masha malka’s the one minute coach. that’s a quote from masha up there at the beginning of the post. masha specializes in coaching busy people – and she knows what she’s talking about, as a mother of three children and businessperson.
how might masha’s approach help all of us who are busily working on our novels?
i like this part:
you have everything you need to achieve your goals.
this is a philosophy that i subscribe to, as well.
in practical terms, what does that mean for, say, a 21-year-old 3rd year university student taking a full load of courses and with a little part-time job on the side? let’s call him – what should we call him? raj? okay, let’s see what resources raj has.
the energy of youthfulness
the writing skills accumulated at university
a track record of success with deadlines
research skills (if he’s like me and can’t leave that to after NaNoWriMo)
a big library close by (useful for all kinds of things: research; being surrounded by books; quiet areas)
surrounded by others with similar or at least somewhat similar pursuits
really wanting to do it
the support of the NaNoWriMo community (a HUGE resource that includes, among other things, weekly pep talks from )
the admiration of his friends and family
physical and mental health (well, as much mental health as any 3rd year student has)
quite an impressive list, huh?
anything else you can think of? let’s put our heads together and help out raj with his crazy project, see what else he has going for him.
the idea of the warrior has been very interesting to me in the last few months.
the idea.
this sentence does not mean: for the last few months, i’ve been exciting about becoming a soldier.
on one extreme, there is this image, or platonic ideal, of the noble, principled, disciplined, courageous and hopefully often victorious warrior engaged in the work of defending, protecting and promoting civic good.
on the other extreme, there is the tired, dirty, wounded soldier somewhere out on the foreign soil of afghanistan, a soldier who was, perhaps, seduced by the ideal of the warrior, and now lies there in her blood, wondering how the dickens she got herself into this, and what it’s all for.
in my NaNoWriMo book, my hero’s grandmother, bumbda’a, starts off as one of the famed african amazons of dahomey. she ends up as one of the millions of victims of one of the biggest wars against humanity: the slave trade. the way i portray it, she goes from the ideal – where i talk about her skills, her uniforms, her courage, and her practice of meditating before each battle – to the mundanely horrible.
as i am writing this, i realize that my understanding of war is minimal. all i have are these almost cartoon-like images. i probably read an average of 4 ,5 books a month but try my darndest to stay away from anything war-related. on the internet, i don’t seek out anything about wars, and i’ll avoid even the best movies about war (over 20 years ago, i walked out of deer hunter, which i regret to this day, because it was obvious that it was a very good movie).
i hide from war.
where it comes from is not difficult to guess. the first and second world wars, together with the nazi times, were the biggest shapers of my parents’ and grandparents’, and therefore to a large degree my, history. i grew up with stories of hiding in cellars, of my grandfather riding off on his motorcycle into battle where he worked as a medic, my other grandfather being a POW, my mother finding a burned body on a pleasant little afternoon walk. one of the shapers of my personal history was a documentary film about the nuclear explosion over hiroshima; traumatic for a 9-year-old. so i’m scared of war, and i hide.
and here is a question: as long as i hide from war, can i truly call myself a pacifist? as long as i hide from war, am i not in danger of turning the ideal of the “warrior for peace” into some romantic, disney-like dream with little substance? if i don’t understand what i’m against, how can i intelligently oppose it?
perhaps the first step, today, november 11, will be this: “my” park right outside my doorstep is memorial park, a park dedicated to veterans. remembrance day celebrations will begin in a short while. rather than not going there because i don’t want anything to do with war (as i always have) i can explore it, allow myself to taste the atmosphere.
and in response to a suggestion from a reader, here is another remembrance day song: terry kelly’s pittance of time.
in a few days, november 11, it’s remembrance day here in canada, or veterans day in the U.S.
many wars were and are still being fought, and many struggles. writing a novel about a slave on a louisiana plantation, one of the struggles that is foremost in my mind is the one against slavery in the U.S.
may we remember then today the women, children and men who fought against this horrible injustice, starting with capturing people from their homelands, to the unimaginable suffering in the middle passage, to the inhumane exploitation of slavery on farms, in factories, on plantations.
some of these women, children and men fought by jumping on the underground railroad to canada, from where they helped more to escape into freedom.
one of the songs from that era, legend has it, is follow the drinking gourd. the drinking gourd is the big dipper. look up at the sky, it says, and look for the big dipper. follow it north, “for to carry you to freedom”. watch this video and listen to the song. here are the lyrics:
when the sun comes back,
and the first quail calls,
follow the drinking gourd,
for the old man is waiting
for to carry you to freedom
if you follow the drinking gourd.
chorus:
follow the drinking gourd,
follow the drinking gourd,
for the old man is waiting
for to carry you to freedom
if you follow the drinking gourd.
the riverbank will make a very good road,
the dead trees show you the way.
left foot, peg foot traveling on,
following the drinking gourd.
the river ends between two hills,
follow the drinking gourd,
there’s another river on the other side,
follow the drinking gourd.
when the great big river meets the little river,
follow the drinking gourd.
for the old man is waiting
for to carry you to freedom
if you follow the drinking gourd.
(more renditions and an interesting history of the song here)
i’d like to dedicate this post to sojourner. if you visit here regularly, you already know about her sunday inspirations.
sojourner doesn’t only inspire on sundays. she does it all week long. she inspires and reaches out, reaches out her hand to continue the human chain of peace and compassion that is so strong all throughout the blogosphere, just like less than 200 years ago, our ancestors were giving each other a hand on the way to freedom.
the other day sojourner gave me the huge honour of her helping hands award. this is probably the best blogging award i have ever gotten. today, i just want to shout out a big THANK YOU to sojourner. in the next week or so, i’ll tell you a bit more about the award. it deserves its own post.
this is part of my remembrance day songs series. interested in more?
the last remembrance day song for 2007: canto libre by victor jara view post
remembrance day songs for a different kind of soldier view post
he has some interesting thoughts there that i encourage you to explore, and finishes thusly:
the more we meditate and practice various forms of mindfulness, the less it — the ego — feels a need to hold on, knowing that we always come back to the body and its collection of smaller selves we call “me.”
my immediate reaction was, but meditation is exactly one of those things that my ego resists like crazy!
my second reaction was: i just returned from a few hours of solution focused counselling training and would like to see if i can apply some of the things presented there (by richard hyams, by the way).
you see, one of the things we talked about was BUT.
as in,
i’d like to apply for this job but i’m too old
i think going to school would be a good idea but i have to wait until my law suit is over
it’s really time for me to go on a vacation but with this bad economy …
i guess this would be a good idea but my friend joe tried it and it didn’t work
you get the drift.
here’s a little dialogue i wrote out in response to my objection:
question: on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being next to nothing and 10 being superhuman force, how strong would you say the resistance is?
answer: different on different days.
q: that’s interesting! what’s the range? maybe 3 on one day and 9 on a really tough day?
a: hm. i’d say somewhere between 4 and 10.
q: superhuman force? you’re pretty strong!
a: well, maybe not superhuman force. enough to keep me from doing it; but i WOULD meditate if i had to or if others were doing it, too.
q: that’s a … what on the scale?
a: 6.5, maybe. actually, a 5.5 because it’s not that i don’t want to. i just don’t do it.
q: interesting. and what would life be like without that resistance?
a: aaaaah. very free.
q: what does that freedom feel like?
a: free. joyful.
q: free and joyful.
a: yes. real good.
q: hm. so. so i take it you’d really like to have that freedom?
a: absolutely! but …
q: but …?
a: but i’m afraid it wouldn’t last.
q: you’re afraid this freedom wouldn’t last?
a: yup.
q: do you think it’s possible to NOT have that fear?
a: oh, yeah, definitely.
q: you sound quite convinced.
a: oh yeah.
q: so you’re convinced that … never mind, why don’t you tell me in your own words. you’re convinced that … ?
a: i’m convinced that it’s possible not to be afraid of losing my freedom. the freedom i’ve gained from losing the resistance to meditate.
q: i wonder what that would sound like if we made it shorter; it’s hard to say it with all the “not’s” in there. what would it sound like?
a: let’s see. okay, here: “i’m convinced it’s possible to … live in the freedom … the freedom that comes from wanting to meditate, and meditating every day.”
q: mmmmh. what’s that like, saying that?
a: it feels like there’s already some freedom. it feels like there’s some space that opened up in my head.
q: in your head?
a: yeah, in my head, because that’s where that fear and reluctance sit.
q: and now there’s more space?
a: yeah. and … i have a question.
q: what’s that?
a: how can i hold on to this, and act on it?
q: let me ask YOU a question: how would you know that you ARE holding on to it, and acting on it?
a: that’s pretty obvious. i’d be meditating every day.
q: and you’re wanting to do it, and it feels very free,
a: yes. i’m wanting it, and it feels free.
pause.
a: you know what? how much time do we have left?
q: about 15 minutes.
a: could we meditate together, right here and now? would that be alright?
q: of course! about 10 minutes?
a: perfect!
… and 10 minutes of meditation ensued. thank you, richard!
it’s actually quite simple. certain of my creative endeavours have a strongly spiritual element. my novel is one. somehow it connects me to the divine. in fact, when i first posted the tweet that i mentioned in the beginning of the post, i was thinking of the slight reluctance to work on the novel.
nuff said. i will now continue with my good novel.
i’m imagining the hero of my NaNoWriMo novel, joe – or kosi, his african name – watching obama’s acceptance speech tonight.
“yes we can!”
my novel spans close to 250 years, starting with a west african amazon who ends up a slave in louisiana. joe is her grandson. he dies and – well, he hangs around, learns things, starts to help people.
when he was a slave on that plantation by baton rouge, what would he have said if someone would have told him that in 200 years, a black man would become the president of the united states? and not just any president – a president committed to unity.
if someone would have told joe, a man who enjoyed the love of a man as much as the love of a woman, that this president, within the first few minutes of this historical speech, promised to bring together “young and old, rich and poor, democrat and republican, black, white, latino, asian, native american, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled” – would he have run away from the plantation, to die at the edge of the swamp? would he have stuck around and said,
“yes we can?”
how impossible that would have sounded for him back then.
yet later, when joe decided to hang around even after death, he began to learn … and maybe it’s the same lesson that obama learned.
but i don’t know what obama learned. what i know is that he is one of the few politicians who has ever captured me. there is something of gandhi and dr. martin luther king about him. what i know is that obama’s message goes straight to my heart:
“yes we can!”
would obama have been able to send that message 200 years ago?
i don’t think i’m making much sense right now. i am awestruck by what i have just witnessed.
“yes we can!”
i’ll let that take seed in my heart, and i’ll send the seed to my joe, and ask my muses to water and shelter it and send it good sunshine, so that my novel will blossom and be of service to the world; a tiny little metaphor, i’ll hope, for a peaceful, united, and affirming future for this great country to our south, america.
it’s dia de los muertos today, day of the dead. thought i’d give you a little excerpt from my novel, right when the hero dies, slumped against a tree after running through the swamp. the hero is joe, who lived as a slave on a sugar plantation in louisiana.
anyways, here i was sitting against that ol’ tree. big gum tree, man, and the stories he can tell (yup, a he tree, i know a thing or two about gum trees). i was just sitting there and i knew i had come to an end. i was surprised, mostly. not that i had come to an end, either there or at my age; no, i’d been ready for a long time. i’m telling you this, guys, because you don’t think that like here [note: he’s telling this story to a present-day audience; he died in 1830]. but back then, at the plantation, dying is always happening, you get used to it, and it sure isn’t the worst thing that can happen to you. something to think about.
anyways, the reason i was surprised was the feeling of life seeping out of me. i mean, i had kind of seen it, seeing other people die, but feeling it, that was totally different. there was no fear. yeah, i was surprised at that, too, i’d thought that might be a scary feeling. but it was just interesting, you know. like all those little bacteria that the dutchman talked about, them all just quietly packing up and leaving, leaving town. that was another surprise, that there was a town left.
at the same time, i noticed, somewhere far away, mr james-patterson and elise standing over me, elise’s hands touching me somewhere, somewhere on my body, i couldn’t tell anymore where but i still recognized it was her (the PEOPLE, they were easy to recognize, maybe i’ll tell you why later, once i’m done with this here), and it was strange, this seeping away and the far-awayness of the world and at the same time, this strong, clear knowing.
and then it was over. they know what they’re talking about when they say it’s like the last grains of sand running out an hourglass. just like that.
but the “it” that was over was just one thing. because what happened next was that somehow i knew i had to make a decision. it’s like there were, all of a sudden, all kinds of ways before me but i HAD to choose one. why i had to, i don’t know. it was like a horse and four running, there’s no way to stop them, so you gotta turn them left or right.
“i” – that’s a whole different story. it’s a different “i” altogether – but never mind, that’s not what i’m talking about right now.
i coulda gone up to heaven. yessuh, i coulda done that. there was actually such a thing. and it looked like they woulda taken me. but that’s not what i chose.
also, there was a road, and it just disappeared, softly, into nowhere, or what looked like nowhere. that would have been the easiest one to go, for me at least, but i didn’t end up going there.
there were lots others. somehow i knew a bit about each one of them. but the one i chose, a little off to the left, it was, how can i describe it, at first glance it looked like a little cul-de-sac, right there, right off the road, right by that old tree.
i went in a little ways and i just sat there. well, as much sitting as i could do, let’s not forget i’m talking about something that’s hard to talk about, right? let’s not forget that.
that was probably the biggest surprise. that i went there, into that cul-de-sac. i mean, i hadn’t known there were so many places to go to, that there was any place to go to, and that there was that place there. and that i chose to go there. i had no idea how that choosing happened, i still don’t, but at the same time i know that i made that decision.
now what was there in that place?
… aaaand the other reason i’m presenting this today is because once again, i’m participacting in NaNoWriMo. NaNoWriMo is short for national novel writing month. everyone who signs up pledges her or his hope (or iron-clad intention, as it may be) to write 50,000 words towards a novel in the month of november. that’s how i started with my novel last year. i’m a NaNoWriMo “rebel” because i choose to continue to work on an existing project (the official idea is to start with a brand new project although the 4-time NaNoWriMo writer i met at the kickoff party today declared that there was nothing wrong with continuing an existing project.)
what’s really, really exciting is that in our household of six, four are participating. can you believe it? my 11-year-old daughter (she participates in the young writers’ part), my husband and one of our roommates are writing, too! i’m so thrilled, atingle, elated, delighted, ecstatic, hopped up over this - as one of the characters in haroun and the sea of stories would say, by one of my favourite writers, salman rushdie. yes, yes, we writers love to read.
so. for the month of november, my task here on this blog is to relate every entry to NaNoWriMo (except for the wordless posts). there’ll probably be quite a few excerpts from the book, and all the other posts, well, maybe some of the connections i’ll make will be a bit hair-raising but then i think all of NaNoWriMo might turn out to be hair-raising!
it’s hallowe’en! i’m busy being a fashion mistake - that’s my costume for this year. this picture gives you a bit of a taste of but it doesn’t show the real nice touches – the smeared rouge, the bags under the eyes, the wool socks over the leopard pyjamas under the fancy black skirt – oh well.
oh, and it’s the last of the month and therefore carnival of eating disorders time! i guess i should get serious.
okay.
(desparately trashing around trying to find a segue)
{giving up; but if you can think of a good segue, let me know, alright?}
i’ll just start now.
body image – a video that will make you cry
in this powerful post, dr. susan gregg talks about the difference between domination and dominion:
society is based on domination. the way our mind thinks is most often based on domination: black and white, right and wrong, good and evil, positive emotions and negative ones. symbolically this is represented as a line. as we deepen our connection with our spirit, with our true nature we move into dominion. symbolically dominion is represented as a sphere.
after explaining this concept a little more, she then posts a video that illustrates her thoughts in a deeply moving way. everyone who has ever had any issues with body image or any other feelings of “otherness” will know what susan is talking about. please visit her post, judgment, domination and the line.
it would futile to try and explain that if a girl asked another girl if she was going to try and lose weight to get a guy, without said girl ever mentioning a dissatisfaction with her current weight, that it would be enough to send her into a downward spiral of self hatred, body image issues and gallons and gallons of ben and jerry’s.
body image and anorexia
lola snow has a post about a mirror in a changing room:
the revelation occurred in the middle of the river island changing rooms.
i tried on nine or ten different outfits, on the final pair of jeans (which i actually had to buy because all my other clothes hang off me in various ways liable to get me arrested for exposure) i noticed. i look like a bag of bones. i look ill. my cheeks are actually sunken in. my hipbones and ribs are more obvious than my boobs. my collarbones protrude far enough to hook a coat hanger on. i actually felt a bit sick, because i feel so breakable. like one of my bones could shatter from a knock or a jar. my skin is patchy, i have an eye infection, my veins in my arms pop out like grey earthworms, my teeth are chipped and yellowed. all in all, standing under the yellow tinted fluorescent hell lighting, shivering in my too-big underwear, wasn’t a good look for me.
i looked like i am pretty close to dying.
what i found really interesting about this is that it looks like she actually saw herself in real life, not as still-too-fat as so many anorexic women do. a small victory, perhaps?
food and the sound of silence
laura collins, who was so good and hosted the carnival of eating disorders last month muses on the question of what to talk about when not talking about food and eating. what would happen if these topics were taken out of the conversation anywhere and everywhere?
well, a marvellous silence would blanket the land, certainly. there’d be a lot more eye contact, i think. the TV and radio channels would be silent much of the day and night without talk shows and news spots and commercials selling dieting and the necessity of altering our appearance. parties would be odd for a while, but we’d adjust. class reunions… well, no one would go any more because the whole point was to compare notes on aging and diets.
exercise: fit and fat
carrie arnold (who, incidentally, was the person who first asked the question of what to talk about if not about food) is the owner of one of the best blogs on eating disorders. check it out. her new blog header is really cool. she points out that you can be fit and fat.
a study found that half of adults classified as “overweight” and one third of adults classified as “obese” were metabolically healthy. one in four of “normal weight” adults were not.
exercise and weight loss
pretty much a companion article to the one above is dr. martin russell’s exercise for weight loss. hold on to your seats, i won’t reveal the story. read it for yourself.
that’s it for october! i really enjoyed all these posts and encourage you to go on and read them all. do you have, or do you know, a post that would be a good addition to this carnival? if so, please submit it here or drop me a line, and we can enjoy it next month, at the carnival of eating disorders on november 30.
welcome, welcome, welcome! this is the 12th edition of the buddhist carnival – one year of a monthly celebration of bloggers who write about buddhism. as usual, i’ll post it in two parts. it occurred to me a while ago that there is something decidedly un-buddhist or at least un-zen in a buddhist post that’s completely overloaded with information.
it’s dia de los muertos today, day of the dead. thought i’d give you a little excerpt from my novel, right when the hero dies, slumped against a tree after running through the swamp. the hero is joe, who lived as a slave on a sugar plantation in louisiana.
