Liberty

You say you cannot see it or quantify it or describe it qualitatively, but I say it is what we admire when we prefer a living, breathing, moving fellow being to the most beautiful statue of such by the greatest sculptor. It is at once static and dynamic, exhibiting a flow in greek statuary and is in the gait of your walk as you move across the room.

The hard fact is it is unsafe, where order is achieved by a general prevalence of fear while Liberty is absent.

The tradition is, peace is not to be preferred over it.

If it must be hard fought and hard won, then so be it.

Rousseau said it can be won, but it cannot be won again.

So we must continue to be wild and woolly.

We must continue to execute robust actions, continue to exhibit robust courage, continue to prescribe to the robust idealistic tenacity of Patrick Henry, where death is preferred to loss of it.

Imagine if you had limbs, yet no strength to move them. An eye, but no light to see. An ear, but no nerve to hear.

Such would be the state of an aristocracy or democracy without Liberty. People would be subject to magistrates, and not the laws they've agreed to establish.

Rousseau said no matter how pretty and solid they be, it is houses that make the town, but that it is the citizens who make the city.

Politically, the penultimate virtue of the citizen is Liberty.

And so, may Liberty continue.

Arete'

What the greeks called excellence. But for how long did I confuse excellence with perfection? How long did I, unbeknownst to me, attempt to make the gods jealous by leaving nothing undone, being lock-stepped in days where every task had to be completed without error, on time, and without fail? If something was crooked, it was made straight, if someone was out of line, they were reprimanded, if I didn't get it all done, I chastised myself severely before falling asleep.

It's a continuum. The natural flow of time is not measured laconically in twenty four hour days, but flows from one day into the next one, and then to the next one, in curvaceous perfectiion.

Leave something left for the next time. Perfection is left to the gods.

The concept of the good measure in all things really results in a mediocrity. You can be a little above average, but you still tend to the middlin'.

A potter shapes his bowl on the wheel and sees before putting it into the kiln that it is perfectly smooth and without defect.

He makes his mark in the clay before baking it, adding his originality to the work that results in an imperfection so that no one gets jealous.

This then is true excellence.

A truer representation of things how they are naturally.

Freedom!

'Man was born free and is everywhere in chains' said Rousseau, that wild savage contemporary of Kant. Immanuel Kant had one picture hanging in his home. It was a portrait of Rousseau. I think this is because Rousseau travelled mental landscapes Kant could only dream of, Kant having never travelled more than thirty miles outside his native Konigsberg.

Rousseau would scoff at some of the points I've made in previous posts regarding original sin, a concept that has held sway over me since I can remember attending church.

Rousseau would say, Adam was a man who lived a long long time ago, and who operated under the law of creation.

'You', I think Rousseau would sternly tell me, levelling his gaze at me, 'You are operating under the law of generation'. 'You were born of two parents who conceived of you in the usual natural way and are yourself natural.'

'Don't' he would continue, 'Don't beat yourself up over being natural!' 'You are guilty of not practicing virtue, you are guilty of being undomesticated, without manners, and not doing your duty, but you, you have nothing really to apologize for.'

There is no question the civilizing influence Christianity fulfills, in that it makes us better members, or as Rousseau would say, better citizens living, not in towns, but cities, not in a country, but a sovereignty, where we are governed by choice.

When the rural, provincial, wild landscaped animal comes to the fore, we repress, repress, repress, for we must not transgress!

But in the most civilized man, the animal eventually must be acknowledged, even appreciated. This is where hunting, fishing, camping in the wild, become outlets for the animal to express itself in proper society.

But if one hasn't hunted, or fished, or camped in awhile, or never, and the animal has been beaten down for so long and shown no love, it will repay the favor, only in a mirrored, obverse manner. While it has been shown nothing, it will show everything! Primal screams, rapid heartbeats, much sweating will ensue. The body will give out a call that simply will not go unanswered.

So it is that the animal demands expression. More, freedom to roam.

Seek Ye First

Religion, especially when one is young, largely appeals to the animal imagination and soulful emotions. We are told stories of David and Goliath, Samson and Delilah, Daniel and the lion's den. All of these stories engender a response rooted in the animal or soulful nature, where we are encouraged to imagine a small boy defeating a giant, where we respond emotionally to Delilah's treachery, and where we admire the courage of Daniel in the den of lions.

But as one grows older, these stories give way to experience and we find we are not courageous, that we in fact are just as treacherous as any Delilah, and we certainly need more than three stones gathered from a nearby riverbed to slay the giants in our lives.

The imagination, the soulful, begin to give way to some other faculty within us that will not be denied. Our reason.

Come let us reason together, said the apostle Paul.

As an adult, where passion has given way to agreeableness, the center of activity has shifted from the loins to the stomach, from the stomach to the heart, then the heart now to the mind.

The ancients taught that imagination was a faculty we shared with the 'lower' animals. Being sublunary, we were endowed with the same animal nature as our pets. What we share in common with the gods, said they, is our reason, and this reason will not go unsatisfied.

But we have built the ladder in the proper order. The first rung being imagination, the next rung being belief, the following rung is knowledge, while we make our final step to the last, gnosis or intelligence.

Here, in intelligence, we are introduced to a new discipline of 'why'. Why we do the things we do. Most importantly, why don't we do some of the things we should? We begin to realize we've been admiring 'religious paintings' as opposed to 'sacred art' and that we've given up festivals of saints, feast days, lunar calendars, iconography, because they have been deemed provincial by the urban mass of christianity.

Exhortations to 'have more faith' while we lack objects of faith create a vacuum in us that alarms us to the point we may have a soulful crisis.

The answer.

To begin reintegrating some of the most beneficient practices of the ancients. The prayer of the heart. Rhythmic breathing. Meditation. Observance of the times that we may know when to pray for increase, or to pray for decrease, and that we are not prodigal out of season. We begin to recall that Jesus said there was a time to sow and a time to reap, and that these times were governed by those great lights of the heavens, and that these lights then are worthy to be observed. We begin to seek a deeper harmony with the natural world, that in the city, we have been so far removed from.

In short, we discover spiritual practice.

This then is our opportunity to express ourselves to our Creator in our own personal way. We select some things to do, eschewing others, in building our own inner temple for the Spirit to inhabit.

This personal faith, this expression of our own imaginings, our own beliefs, our own knowledges, and our own intelligences becomes an expression of the crown of our being, our spirit, and satisfies deeply, I believe, in it's uniqueness, our Creator.

Warp and Woof

The symbolic meaning of the warp and woof. The vertical is the warp, which symbolically can mean the form, the way things should be, the unconscious, the ephemeral; while the horizontal is the woof, meaning the substance, the way things are, the conscious and concrete. Titus Burckhardt uses this warp and woof as an illustration in his collected writings I've been reading called 'The Essesntial Titus Burckhardt.' It is a collection of his writings concerning sacred art, alchemy, history, religion and architecture. Mr. Burckhardt is a perennial traditionalist, and it is surprising what some of the arcane subjects are that are classified as 'traditional'. The perennial philosophy, simply stated, is that there is more to life than what meets the eye. Titus Burckhardt beautifully emphasizes this point in what ever subject he writes about. Calmly he assures us that our myths tell us over and over again that while we have an animal nature that will die, we have a soulful and spiritual nature that are eternal. And what an adventure it is to look inward and discover this tripartite nature of a human being. To see that part of our selves that is universal, eternal and unchanging, the warp, along with that part of our selves that is particular, mortal and fickle, the woof. Looking inward critically, one can begin to see the interweaving of the animal, soulful and spiritual natures and how the three make one. 'A three cord rope is not soon broke' goes the wise saying.

It was not until I suffered a severe crisis that I realized I have these three elements within me. But I did indeed have one. And the thing is that when the three elements are highly distinct, this is a most dangerous time, as there should always be a link between the three. Joseph Campbell would describe the phase I am in now as the 'return'. Carl Gustav Jung would call it 'reintegration', in both cases meaning the reunification of the animal to the soulful, and the soulful to the spiritual. A ladder is broken, and then rebuilt, rung by rung. Or a person leaves on a long journey and finally returns home, stronger and wiser after the travelling is done and the obstacles along the way have been overcome.

The warp and the woof.

Justice - Or, O.K., I'll Say It

Well, it's been awhile, so maybe this post is already a bit dated at it's publishing, but I wanted to wait a while to see if the feeling would fade over time, which it hasn't.

Saddam Hussein was hanged. In a whirlwhind, he was brought to the noose and hung high.

I think by being a political, and therefore a conditional and temporary solution, the judgement is but a short termed win. The spirit of Mr. Hussein lives on, and only will be realized in a newer, more powerful individual despot who will think he is above the law and can rule his subjects by fear - and will be accompanied by mass graves of women, children and men in his reign.

But for now, when I walk out onto my front porch, I feel the world is for a time, just but a time, safer and more sane.

A bully despot has been deposed and brought to justice.

I'm not completely square yet on how I feel about the death penalty, but know there are other and better ways to deal with evil than thinking it can be embodied in one human person and killed and stamped out by killing and stamping out that person.

Life should be so plain and easy.

But it was the Iraqi people, and those others who suffered under this evil whose cry for justice needed to be answered.

And when my little boy walks out the door to play with his friends, I now think of those little boys who can run out and play with their friends. Now. For a time.

Safer.

The Language of Alchemy

In alchemy, the lost royal art, there is a language that has crept into the vernacular that you may recognize. If you've ever been told to turn lemons into lemonade, or that you're full of sulpher dust, or ever heard the phrases 'the philosopher's stone', 'aqua vitae', or 'spiritus mundi', then you've had some exposure to alchemy. Granted, most of these phrases would mainly pop up in medieval literature and before. But if you've ever had the urge to turn something bad into something good, then you've experienced the magic of this art.

Today, much is made of the psychological aspects of alchemy, and from what I've gathered, you don't see much written about the operative form of the art where you would set up a laboratory with alembics and furnaces and begin the great work of turning lead into gold. This is largely due to modernization and organic chemistry, but mostly, in my view, is due to Carl Gustav Jung. Jung wrote a book running into nine hundred pages plus about the aspects and symbolism of alchemy and how those apply to the modern psyche. He carries forward a rich tradition, which arguably began with Hermes Trismegistos, the thrice greatest, and which has continued, sometimes more often than not, secretively, down through the ages even to us in our postmodern age.

In alchemy, the seven ptolemaic planets are associated with various metals. From memory, Saturn is lead, Jupiter is tin, Mars is iron, Mercury and Moon are silver, the Sun is gold and so on. The seven planets beginning with Saturn and working to the moon are ranged from most to least powerful in order, but curiously, the metals beginning with Saturn again and working to the Moon, are associated in the opposite order, where the most base, lead, is associated with Saturn the most powerful, and working it's way to silver, more precious, in the moon, least powerful. In other words, there is a 'mirror' effect at play here.

Ironically, no pun intended, iron was the metal of choice to be manufactured over gold before the middle ages, as it was used to make tools and armor and weapons. Later, in the medieval times, the literature speaks of eschewing 'vulgar gold', the kind that would line your empty pockets with some quick cash, for the 'philosopher's gold', which is a spiritual, wholly redeemed state. So even before modern times, the psychological aspect of alchemy was already in the works.

I find the study of alchemy rewarding, if for no other reason than it's assigning meaning to what we consider to be arbitrary physical entities. The planets take on aspects and are charged with personalities that modern science would scoff at. A heaven is imagined, in the planets which move and change, which fixes the earth and it's inhabitants and rules man's soul and body. The fixed stars beyond these and in the firmament, are seen as 'more' eternal since they don't change, and are said, in alchemy, to guide the eternal spirit housed in us each and every one.

Suddenly, the skies are filled with personalities, agents of action, and a harmony can be realized, where you're not just staring at a globular cluster in a photo sent back from Hubble. The universe is not seen as mostly empty, black and boundaryless space, populated here and there by astronomical objects, but instead is charged with meaningful and more, purposeful objects that effect our lives in various ways.

Now.

I do not read my horoscope. I don't think my free will is hemmed in and constrained by some planet I've never been to or seen.

But.

I do find it interesting that there is a harmony between the heavens and the earth that has been lost to most of us, and that we are just given dead, lifeless clusters millions of lightyears away that make us feel more and more insignificant the more we look at them.

And perhaps I like the intuitive way this art works, for example in that when I feel 'leaden', I really do feel base and heavy burdened, and that conversely, when I feel 'ight' I can imagine myself being made of pure silver, and being shiny with no corrosive nature to myself or others around me.

This type of thinking, and this kind of language, for me, makes heaven reappear, where modern astronomy had all but dissolved the skies into a vast nothingness and endless parade of random, albeit at time beautiful objects.

Change

I realize this may be obvious to anyone who has read anything I've written, or who knows me, but I dread change. I abhor the idea of it. I don't want it to happen. I like things the way they are. I want to learn the rules and do well at the game. But yes, I know the rules change as does the game and I know I can't hate the playa but rather I can only hate the game. But still. I read the other day the greeks thought that anything that was circular was part of the spiritual realm. The sun circles the sky, as do the moon and the lesser planets. I drive to work each day, come home, and drive back the next day, then come home, so hey, even driving to work can be a spiritual experience viewed in this circular light. Predictable. you know, intelligible that doesn't require intuition. I want to know when I'm supposed to be at work, when I need to take Dylan to scouts or drum lessons, and I want things to carry on 'normally' and 'predictably'. But the incidental seeps in. Plans change. Appointments get moved. The inertia I've developed going in a certain direction is suddenly interrupted and I have to take a new, different path in order to arrive at the new destination. For one thing, I want to know where all the fuss is. Why is everyone in such a dang hurry? The planet is going to continue sweeping out equal distances in equal times about the sun for a virtual eternity. We're not going anywhere new for a long time. So why all this motion and commotion? Where do we think we're headed in such a dang hurry? Hello? There are no new continents for us to conquer. We are the new world, folks. It doesn't get any newer or brighter than this. It's time everybody slowed down and looked inside, the last great frontier. It's time for us collectively to take a breather. Think about why we do things the way we do them. Think about things that don't change and are eternal. I mean, you might lobby for political change, but you're either going to get a monarchy, an oligarchy, a republic, a democracy, or a despotic state. We've had all these already, so why not we just chill for a bit and enjoy what we got, folks. I will admit there is, inside me, this hint of my own mortality, and that I only have so many days left on the planet, and what do I want to see changed. I mean, deep down, I feel something does need to be changed, but I don't yet know what. Every once in a while I ponder, how will I live on and what will I leave behind. First and foremost, my son. I am trying my best to raise the boy to be a contributor, not just a looker onner. And I am trying to inculcate him with the western liberal values I think are important. A good religious training. A good schooling. An interest in the arts. An interest in people. But yeah, there's something more deep down I feel I need to be doing, but I just haven't found it yet. In the meantime, I'll keep contemplating the fixed stars in the firmament, the perennial philosophy, the esoteric christianity. I expect some day I'll wake up and the lightbulb will go on, and 'click', I'll know what change needs to be made. But in the meantime...

De Profundis

Out of the depths of sorrow. The deepest sorrow your childhood melancholies only prepared you for. Those still times when there was that sadness in the broad sunlight, a reminiscence accompanied by one lonely tear. An aloneless felt in an anonymous crowd.

Out of the deepest darkness, where you were met with that one and far away pinpoint of supernal light, the spirit.

There were lessons to be taught, wisdom to be gained, emotions to be felt, thoughts to be thought, and the soul demanded a new, broader expression, the body a new, deeper suffering, the spirit a new, more congealed singularity to a diamond point. Wholeness would not be denied.

And you look back on it all and say, 'would I have changed a thing?' Comes the wise answer.

'no'

Regression

Regression. Is good! You can go back to that more primitive time, that more nebulous realm of the past that when you read about it, you know there was, as is now, much more going on than was and is manifestly reported. I began with the ancient greeks, then went further back to the presocratics, and have now moved forward to the middle ages, where I think I shall stay for a bit. Virtue. The four ancient ones, Wisdom, Courage, Temperance, Justice. The ancient psychology of the tripartite soul, the spirit, the soul and the animal. The trivium and quadrivium of the seven liberal arts. Grammar, Dialectic, Rhetoric, these three being the expression of intellect, continuing on to arithmetic or number, music or time, geometry or space, astronomy or harmony and dynamics. These seven liberal arts, in the order I have listed them, are associated with the seven ptolemaic planets, which I once again will list: moon, mercury, venus, sun, mars, jupiter, saturn. Heaven was that active agent, with it's own personalities that 'fixed' the passsive feminine earth on which we abide. Temples, sacred spaces, were laid out with a cosmological view in mind, where the doors of the heavenly winter and summer solstices were mirrored in the south and north tympanums of Chartres Cathedral. Where it is recalled, that the arabic nomadic desert tribes, found their stellar heaven to be a circle, or a dome, and thus arranged their tented sanctuaries in circular form, while in the cities, the more sedentary people found earth to be solid, best represented by the cube or the square, and incorporated the circle (stellar) into the square (earth) in order to create sacred spaces. There was a harmony that existed between heaven and earth, where the ladder Jacob saw in his dream, was still standing on the face of the rock and terminating into the firmament of heaven. And the angels did rise and descend! It is not unnatural to regress. Doesn't the old man become but a boy? Don't the planets go into retrograde motion? Nature herself regresses in order to go back and pick up some of the pieces that before were not noticed or were ignored. So regression is good. Especially, perhaps for the degenerately reminiscent soul, but it is a tonic that turns that reminiscence into something greater than itself. It's called History, and more, a remembrance.