Red Cedar
More apocalypse, less angst
Revealing possibility.
Near the end of the 14th century, a young woman of thirty experienced a near-fatal illness – one she had prayed for over some time in order that she might know the suffering of Christ. In fact, she had wished for death so that she could truly understand all the agony and suffering that Christ had experienced in order to take in all the love of the world – but as it was, a near-fatal illness would do (it turned out). That illness, before it broke, became a revelatory vision to Julian of Norwich (as she would later be known) in which she witnessed the bleeding of the crucifix and received direct communion with Jesus and with God (the Revelations of Divine Love which she called them later). In this way she knew the suffering of Christ, and also became aware of God’s desire for people – and that their sin was a necessary step to choosing contrition and thus coming back to God in the course of their struggles.
The Revelations of Divine Love raises many questions – particularly to the modern (skeptical reader) who might be inclined to argue against revelatory experience – dismissing it instead as the effects of brain chemistry imbalance or some type of hallucenogenic effect brought on by poisoning. Which is certainly one way to read it – ergot poisoning being a favourite “cause” of the Salem Witch Trials as proposed by 1970s historian Linnda Caporael (a theory which has since been debunked). But we can also choose to simply read Julian’s vision as a true, revelatory experience, even if we aren’t sure what or who the “revealer” is.
In response to a discussion on that topic in last night’s class – one of my classmates posted the following Sam Harris video on the lunacy of miracles (like crosses that bleed and people raised from the dead):
And I can’t say I disagree that organizing one’s life around some things that people might or might not have seen two thousand years ago seems a bit strange to me. But then again, I think that Sam Harris entirely misses the point (as do all the smug atheists) of religion, which is less about whether Christ rose from the cross or God parted the Red Sea, and more about agreeing to a collective moral compass. From the perspective of human rights and the year 2011, I might disagree with some parts of that morality, but it doesn’t change the fact that religion exists with us to serve an essential purpose.
In any event, the point I wanted to get to with all this is that whether or not we believe in a divine being – revelatory experiences happen to all sorts of people from all faith and cultural backgrounds, and which might also be experienced by atheists who allow for that possibility. I say “allow for that possibility” because I believe that, like Julian of Norwich, one must be open to the experience for it to happen at all. A mind inflexible on the subject is unlikely to bend in such a way as to refute what it knows to be true.
I find it also curious that not only must a “visionary” be primed or opened, but that revelatory experience also comes from the visionary’s own cultural/religious/atheistic background. Thus, a Christian sees Christ bleed on the cross, a Hindu sees a deeper vision of Krishna, an atheist experiences the sense of “channeling the world’s suffering” – all in the name of something greater than the individual, all with the sense that some other aspect of the world (whatever it is behind the curtain) is being revealed. In the case of Julian it was a message of profound love, forgiveness, and a feminizing of the church.
To which the skeptics would argue that this in itself is proof that revelatory experience is nothing other than invention – for why would the Christian not come out of a trance with a greater knowledge of Krishna – if each of these experiences is a true one? And why does suffering take the form most politically palatable to each of the visionaries?
All this says to me is that the person having the experience is as much of a participant in the shaping of it (from their own background and history) as whatever external force/energy/intelligence has come to bear on them. If there is an external force. For perhaps revelation is actually an entirely internal process – does it cease to matter then? We can simply chalk it up as “crazy” and move on, right?
I don’t think it’s so easy to move in that direction either, because then I wonder what knowledge the deep psyche is offering up and what many springs which feed it have offered. By that I mean the collective around us – the crying, laughing, yelling humanity which infuses every part of us, which our brains are continually working to sort out – reading, attempting to understand the other. If this deep, internal well is the source of our visions, are the revealings about our world any less divine? If we channel suffering from all that has been poured into us and find a deeper compassion as a result of that moment of psychic “crisis” (as Julian did with her message of a loving God), is it any less important?
I am refusing to commit here, walking around the issue – because it doesn’t matter very much to me where revelatory experience comes from. The fact is that it does arrive in many people’s lives quite unexpectedly, and while some people choose to talk about it and proselytize based on it, the majority of people who have mystic experiences do not for fear of being considered crazy, or because they believe the message they received was only meant for them. What I definitely think is true is that the experience itself can only ever be truly understood by the person who has the experience. Writing about it, talking about it – these can never transmit the moment of suffering/fear/comfort/love/anger that a person might feel – for it is truly something ouside of ordinary experience.
The thing I’m most wary of in a discussion of works like this is the pitfall of cynical atheism (a la Christopher Hitchens) which sneers at spiritual needs and felt experiences of people rather than just accepting them on some level as part of the human diaspora. This does not mean that I agree with sitting back and allowing someone’s revelatory experience on evolution or abortion dictate public policy, but I do want to live in a world where each person is allowed the dignity of their believe and practice no matter what it is (and as long as it doesn’t interfere with the same in others). I also want to live in a world with wonder, and the potential for deeper insight that is not dismissed as “merely” anything.
Julian is interesting because she defies many of the cynical explanations one might attibute to a modern-day aspirant. She was not a fame-seeker, she was not a member of the church, she was not going to make money off her revelations, and her mystical experience could have put her in grave danger of being an accused heretic – and yet she spoke out anyway, holding that conviction for the rest of her days (as they are known) and writing about it as long as twenty years after the fact. It is undisputable that she experienced some major psychic event in her thirtieth year that revealed to her a different understanding of sin, compassion, and love than had been preached to her all through her life – but the mystery will always remain, where exactly that message was awakened from.
Another new shirt!
Going away put a dent into my sewing time, but luckily I had this all cut out and awaiting me on my arrival – a super comfy, drape-y raglan top. This is my second adventure with knits – this time a two-way stretch knit which was a bit of a challenge to sew (but ultimately worked out just fine). Not the most exciting piece of clothing I’ve made, but probably my favourite because I’ve been itching for more cozy, comfy tops this fall.
What, me?
In all the academic writing, the poetry analysis, the travel updates I haven’t done a personal update in quite awhile. It’s not that I have nothing going on (obviously!) but some of what’s been going on has been personal and also – all my writing brainspace is being taken up with the journaling for class which I’ve been sharing with you here.
But I’m in a really positive headspace this morning so now seems like as good a time for an update as any. In bullet-form, what is me right now?
- Since my grad studies started in September, I really do feel like reading and writing is all I have been doing. And it’s glorious people! Not because I love everything I’m reading – but definitely it’s true that the works I am reading are sparking all sorts of creative ideas in terms of both writing and textile arts. Which is really exciting because I can’t remember the last time I felt this engaged intellectually. The classroom discussions aren’t quite at the level I had hoped (yet), but I enjoy them nonetheless and I feel that the work I am doing on my own is mostly what I want to build on anyway.
- Another cool thing about grad school has been meeting a bunch of new people who I quite like (an interesting, diverse group). We have dinner before every class and are planning a theatre outing in January. After some of my union disappointments in the last couple of years (cliquishness from which I was excluded mainly), it’s nice to be reminded that normal social interactions exist and can be fun!
- On the work front I’ve returned from holidays to a small re-location of some co-workers which has meant changes in my cube-neighbours. It’s suprising how little changes like this can feel like such a movement of energy. Plus, going down to four days a week has been such a great shift in terms of having more time for myself (to do schoolwork mostly).
- I’ve been involved in a competition for a labour movement job recently that has been stressing me out. After a not-great interview yesterday, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be offered the position – but it’s been a really good chance to evaluate myself, my strengths and what I do/don’t like about my current working environment. At the end of the day I’m grateful that I’m looking for work while having a good job already because it would be much more stressful and disappointing a week otherwise.
- On a more emotional front – I am making my current personal work about compassion. That is, becoming a more compassionate person out in the world and towards myself – which is not so easy, really. I have become increasingly judgemental and frustrated with people over the last several years and when I find myself locked in those emotions I wonder how it is that I can’t let them go. It’s been a long time since I have done any personal, exploratory work – and recently I’ve been meditating on this area of my life. Interestingly enough, this coincides with a visit by Karen Armstrong to Vancouver in spring 2012 where she will be lecturing (through SFU) on exactly this subject during “Twelve Days of Compassion“. I am currently reading her book on the same subject – through which I hope to find some practical insight into doing the work I am craving to do.
- And on the note of craving things – since we went away to NYC last week and things have been so busy recently – I am really missing the act of creating! I’ve got part of a skirt and a top cut out and ready to sew, part of a baby blanket crocheted, and a head full of textile art projects going on right now. On top of writing a class paper and going to #OccupyVancouver this weekend, I’ve got to find a way to get my hands into things again.
- On the whole Occupy movement? I’m mostly just curious right now – having seen what looked like a dishevled forest-action-style-camp in NYC – I believe the most important thing isn’t the actual “occupation” but the daily demonstrations that draw from the broad-spectrum of angry people. I will definitely participate in the demonstration this Saturday, and do what I can to assist the occupation going forward – but I won’t be doing any occupying myself because I just don’t see how to balance working, going to school, and the whole family-life-dynamic with sleeping in a tent at the VAG. We’ll see where things go – I am trying to be less critical and more intrigued at the moment because I do have a tendency (that I don’t like) to be all-too cynical around activism these days.
Tonight we have friends in for dinner (soup, fresh breads, cheeses, pickles and cold-cuts – very simple), and it looks like the weather is going to hold for the weekend so perhaps I can get some gardening in on top of everything else – I’ve got plum trees, blueberry bushes, garlic and spring bulbs to plant. Coming back from NYC I’m feeling pretty charmed at the moment – if not a little bit tired.
Astralabe (a poem draft, a fragment)
Whose child was I?
Granted a name promising
stories written across stars,
access to the future, a glimpse
behind the habit my mother
sometimes wore.
Passed into the arms of Brittany
and held in stiff folds of
linen. Rustling silence and starched
piety. I wasn’t old before
I asked why
Only to be sent with my cousins
to find dandelion for dinner.
Bitter green and grey potato
filled in the hollow
of what I wanted to know.
But this name! More question than answer
to my past. An instrument through which
one gazes at sun, moon and
stars with both feet still planted
on the ground.
For readers of this blog a hint: Astralabe was the son of Heloise and Abelard, conceived illegitimately and then given to a relative to raise. He pretty much disappears from the historic record after this is noted about him. I would like to turn this draft into a poem cycle – for now it comprises another entry in my academic reading journal.
Empty the Glass of Your Desire (Poetry Analysis)
Join yourself to friends
and know the joy of the soul.
Enter the neighborhood of ruin
with those who drink to the dregs.
Empty the glass of your desire
so that you won’t be disgraced.
Stop looking for something out there
and begin seeing within.
Open your arms if you want an embrace.
Break the earthen idols and release the radiance.
Why get involved with a hag like this world?
You know what it will cost.
And three pitiful meals a day
is all that weapons and violence can earn.
At night when the Beloved comes
will you be nodding on opium?
If you close your mouth to food,
you can know a sweeter taste.
Our Host is no tyrant. We gather in a circle.
Sit down with us beyond the wheel of time.
Here is the deal: give one life
and receive a hundred.
Stop growling like dogs,
and know the shepherd’s care.
You keep complaining about others
and all they owe you?
Well, forget about them;
just be in His presence.
When the earth is wide,
why are you asleep in a prison?
Think of nothing but the source of thought.
Feed the soul; let the body fast.
Avoid knotted ideas;
unite yourself in a higher world.
Limit your talk
for the sake of timeless communion.
Abandon life and the world,
and find the life of the world.
–Ghazal 2577 Version by Kabir Helminski
For my second journal entry on Rumi, I’ve decided to take a central poem (as determined in our class discussion last night) and do a bit of a poetic analysis of it.
This poem – Empty the Glass of Your Desire – is in the form of a ghazal (which is not so obvious in its translated version – a ghazal is made up of rhyming couplets with evenly metered lines). Ghazals are prominent in Eastern mysticism and traditionally deal with the subject of unattainable (or illicit) love. Although ghazals may take up earthly love as their subject, the following poem clearly examines our connection with the divine. From Wikipedia “The love is always viewed as something that will complete a human being, and if attained will lift him or her into the ranks of the wise, or will bring satisfaction to the soul of the poet.” This is the stated main goal of the poem, as its end refrain exhorts the reader/listener: ” Abandon life and the world / and find the life of the world.” Ie: Abandon the ego and the material, to find the true light (spark of life, divine core) of the world.
A poem in translation defies some characteristics one might use to analyse a poem – the line length, rhyme, meter, and alliterative effects of the original are lost in the conversion from one language to another. Beyond recognizing the original form of this poem (which automatically gives it a central theme of love – divine love), we can really only delve into it by the meaning of the text itself which I will look at stanza-by-stanza.
Join yourself to friends
and know the joy of the soul.
Enter the neighborhood of ruin
with those who drink to the dregs.
I am unclear about the original form of the poem, but can only assume that each four lines formed two lines of the couplet – linking the ideas from one line to the other. Here we can surmise that Rumi is exhorting the listener that great joy is found in unifying ourselves with others. “Friends” here can refer to specific friends, those who are in the same spiritual or emotional camp, or the greater humanity to which we might merge and unify. Bottom line is, to know the deepest happiness, we must give up our individual selves to others. However! If we ally with those who scrape to the bottom of material life as signfied by the wine “dregs” referred to, we will only be harmed for it, left unable to attain the exalted state we could inhabit.
Empty the glass of your desire
so that you won’t be disgraced.
Stop looking for something out there
and begin seeing within.
Like a glass of wine which can embarass us when we drink to much of it, our desire can only shame us in our scramble to attain more of the world for ourselves. If we empty ourselves of desire, we end this cycle which leaves us worse off. Once we stop looking around outside of ourselves for the answer in the form of “something” whether that be material or spiritual, we can see what is actually inside of ourselves.
Open your arms if you want an embrace.
Break the earthen idols and release the radiance.
Why get involved with a hag like this world?
You know what it will cost.
If you want to be held by the world, you must hold it. You will get what you put out in return – so live with the openness you wish to be met with. Rumi urges us to destroy our material idols – our possessions – in order to give way to the illumination of the greater divinity. The material world is like a difficult woman, a demanding crone – involvement with such people will only cost the pain which is already familiar to us.
And three pitiful meals a day
is all that weapons and violence can earn.
At night when the Beloved comes
will you be nodding on opium?
Even sustenance is not worth having to fight in the world. Our appetites will only drive us further from God.
If you close your mouth to food,
you can know a sweeter taste.
Our Host is no tyrant. We gather in a circle.
Sit down with us beyond the wheel of time.
Giving up our physical appetites gives way to rewards that we are otherwise unaware of. God is not a scary deity in the sky, but one who we can join with in communion. Outside of earthly measures we can find Rumi, the deity and others with whom we can end our isolation.
Here is the deal: give one life
and receive a hundred.
Stop growling like dogs,
and know the shepherd’s care.
Give up this one physical life, the ego, the material attachment and attain much more than you are leaving behind. Fighting for the scraps in the yard doesn’t allow you to become one with the unified flock who is cared for.
You keep complaining about others
and all they owe you?
Well, forget about them;
just be in His presence.
Your petty complaints aren’t worth the time spent on them. Stop grousing about the pains of others and just allow yourself to relax in the presence of God.
When the earth is wide,
why are you asleep in a prison?
Think of nothing but the source of thought.
Feed the soul; let the body fast.
You have the whole world and yet you are unaware and bound inside your own cage. Stop striving for new ideas and allow yourself to discover your root, the divine within your thought. Stop feeding the body in order to nourish the soul with light
Avoid knotted ideas;
unite yourself in a higher world.
Limit your talk
for the sake of timeless communion.
Don’t get caught up in riddles, they will only keep you tied down to the earthly world which you don’t want to be a part of. To much chatter will distance you from the truth, not get you closer to it.
Abandon life and the world,
and find the life of the world.
Give up the material, physical desires in order to find true divinity – the spark which animates all life.
Summed up? This poem is essentially a series of advice on finding divinity through self-reflection. It counsels the reader to cease their material attachments, physical appetites and addictions and circular thinking in favour of communion with others, looking inside of ourselves and allowing oneself to rest in the presence of God. The path Rumi prescribes is an ascetic one involving fasting, meditation, and quietude though the rewards he promises for this practice are richer than a single human life can imagine. Ultimately he wishes us to get beyond that which blocks us from finding the truth, and urges that it is possible with the resources which exist within us.
(Thus concludes my poetry analysis and my last post on Rumi for awhile.)
Red Cedar 