I am barely beginning to understand a lesson from several weeks ago. There has been a long digestive break during which I chewed on, and exploratorily moved to, the notion of:
Voluminous hip
joints vs. delicate Kreutzbein (German “crossleg”) joint
(at the intersection of back (up/down spinal river) and cadera (Spanish “hips”; horizontal
and circling springs (of movement, energy, flow etc.). Both elements are crucial to
a body’s centreline (i.e. balance). I continue to awaken to the acetabulum-ilium-ischium-pubo-sacral
complex in new ways, thus triggering transformational body-consciousness and self-awareness.
Of course, this is true of other areas of the body constantly on my mind as
well. However, I’m not, at the moment, chasing those notions with the same
devotion. I am clearly preoccupied with the whole body* all the time.
*I wanted to include the word mind. But I’ve come to the following
conclusion:
Given that even the elusive mind must have a biological, a physical
manifestation (the nervous system perhaps? though this is a perceptive system
not entirely unlike other anatomical phenomena), the mind is body.
Am contemplating so many
things, all the time. Thank God for Philosophy Sunday! I guard everyone’s sleep
while I think in peace. Joy overcomes my wretched spirit. I listen to music and
move words and body. Today I rest gratefully on my bed as I write. Had a bad
night. The 48 hours of strong non-stop bleeding, the height of the bloody period,
are upon me. This means probably two nights of interrupted sleep due to getting
up every couple of hours to empty my menstrual cup, or change the tampon, pad,
or rag.
I hate it when two notions cross like rivers confusing the
mental landscape. It happens to me with languages, too. I get stuck searching
for a word, an expression, a thought. Sometimes it is lost forever. Brain
technology, what can I say? Totally organic. Thus, orgasmic. Thus, unpredictable
and fleeting… There I go again losing track.
1. Surely bleeding females have had interesting ways of
dealing with the moonthly flow of death all across herstory dating back eons. Before
all the industry we know today there was fur. A useful piece of absorbent, washable animal
fur cut small between the legs or larger underneath the hips overnight, or
while sitting cutting stones; or, grass bound together, biodegradable; an other plants and natural fabrics assisted in cathing the unstoppable flow of female blood.
2. Sunday, Sabbath. A day of doing nothing. On the seventh day: rest. A day
for contemplation, for God to go beyond the binds of physics. Some believe that even flipping
a light switch is too much work for a Sunday. Pray to God in darkness instead! A
day to rest. Resting is a basic human necessity. This, humans have known for
eons. Embedded even in patriarchal old testaments is wisdom true. Women must
have come up with that. Anyone who cares for the young knows that hunger and
fatigue greatly affect a child’s mood. It’s true for gown-ups, too. Nurture and
rest are inescapable terrestrial necessities. It’s also what every woman requires
at least once a month during the days of dying.
Two thoughts that now flow together separately.
At the same time that Father Richard (Rohr) was sending reflections
about living with paradox, I was experiencing a lot of paradox of my own. Many
more rivers of contemplation flow through my being simultaneously. I’ve been preoccupied
with Siddhartha Gotama Buddha again, for example. A German book** which revisits the
Buddha’s story as it’s told, makes it clear that Siddhartha had a singular goal
of becoming enlightened. A singular goal of shedding, of overcoming all the
suffering in the world, of living lightly*** to never incarnate again. But Buddha
my love, you live on incarnate in me! And in the next flesh who thinks about
you, too. Will you help us not suffer? Except, I know that he can’t. I must do
it all by myself with my own pained effort, until it pains no more. Siddhartha
took the physically hard paths of yoga and ascetism. He acquired countless
techniques in terms of taming or regulating the body, nearly killing himself
through starvation. And yet, all that rigor and near-death did prepare him for
the sitting of his lifetime. He was able to endure the Asana that freed him. His
body, breath, and endurance were trained. He performed the greatest art of
perception ever. He attained something that is attainable to all. At what cost?
At the cost of suffering.
On the dawn of my birthday, while being in a state between asleep and awake, I had the most singular sensation of non-self. I felt fully (my) non-selfness. It was the most beautiful, peaceful and happy (non)sensation I’ve ever felt. It was fleeting. It was a gift. And all I desire is to experience it again. But how? Following the Buddha’s searching path?
Thus, I’ve been preoccupied with the
notions of self and/or non-self. I am curious about the nature of a human
species self. An individual self, or a singular creature, is already so very
complex. But it is as complex as other individuals, or creatures, like it. And
it is complex in very similar ways to yet other creatures that seem different.
Thus, a collective kind of self must exist beyond the individual self, which is
rendered non-self by that larger reality.
There is an idiosyncratic self (i.e. genetic body variation;
individual experience; and so on). There is also a non-self, the reality of
non-idiosyncratic biological (and particular) collective existence (species,
material universe, and so on). What lies beyond that?
I’ve experienced another kind of non-self as a mother. I’m
not sure what to call it. Co-self? Double-self?
Perhaps the self and non-self are kind of the same. There
can only be a non-self (or any other variation thereof) given a self. For, what
is not, cannot be denied. What can be transcended must exist. In this sense, to
what extent can the idiosyncratic self transcend a collective, or species self,
or a beyond or non-self? To what extent does non-self transcend idiosyncrasies?
Indeed, what is the nature of our shared humanity embedded
in the biological and technological connections of a material universe? Who are
we humans as a species?
Philosophy Sunday has run out for now. Worldly duties and other desires abound. There was more I wanted to write. Of course, hundreds of pages of notes hang in the making. My philosophical compulsions never cease. I’ll end with a note of gratitude.
God bless the living! For, Nexistentialism enjoys
great company. I get to experience some of my favourite contemporary
philosophers live, for they are my teachers! The beautiful, intelligent,
experienced, independent, and compassionate minds of great thinkers with loving
hearts. Yes, philosophy is alive and well in the world. Of course it is! It always
was. But more on that another time.
 |
| Image: "Calavera cósmica en el espacio exterior" de warzinx |
** "Ein Mann Namens Buddha - Sein Weg und Seine Lehre" von Samuel Bercholz und Sherab Chödin (1994).
***to not suffer, for suffering is heavy and hard
