[MD] False Messiah

[Heather Perella]

Hello Marsha, Scott, Ian, and all,   

  Marsha said:  "Now if that is what you meant by
'contemplation'', my answer would agree."

     Yes, that is something that happens when you are
in the woods.  Clarity is such a quality descriptional
understanding, and I would add that as well to what
happens in the woods.  When it is foggy, you can't see
very far.  When it is not foggy, thus more clear, you
can see farther.    What I am saying comes not just
from a real experience of fog or no fog, but these
saying become metaphorical in nature as well.  With
these metaphorical usages of fog, the metaphor has a
strong character of truth.  For instance, I could say
the monster was defeated by the hammer of life.  Now,
that might say something to you or not, but it also,
to me at least, has a certain lack of character in
its' teachings.  It is purely metaphorical.  Whoever
saw a hammer of life or a monster?  Yet, have we all
experienced those times in our lives when the fog was
very thick.
     In the woods, it is you, your wits, your hands,
and whatever other skills your culture and experience
has been picked up by you and brought into the woods
by you.  Because once your in the woods of true life,
it's you, the trees, other creatures, and some good
old earth and sky - that's it.  It's very ordinary,
yet, has a depth beyond my experience that I could
never fully live as this tiny human.

     
     Scott:
     You mention emergent Christianity.  I looked up
some of their stuff.  Their inclusion that belief
'fills in the gaps' I would assume these gaps are gaps
in our reason.  It explores how we believe what we
believe, etc...  Is that what you gather from this
emergent Christianity?

     
     Ian said:  "What we've identified again, is that
the problem is static baggage.  And that is as true of
religion as it is of science (as it is of any branch
of philosophy I'd say).  Fundamentalists (in science
as well as religion), suffer from too much static
baggage - they believe in the existence of "fixed
foundations" - the clue is in the name."

     Current culture has become the Giant (of Pirsig),
and I once mentioned here somewhere that it is a
beast.  The mighty black bear runs from it.  Comes
back to eat of its' fruit to only be fattened into
dependency.  Where are the other animals?  In the
trash cans down the road, the red fox, raccoon,
opossum, and rats.  Would these animals be able to
feed in the woods?  Why do they have to?  What is it
about the woods that is more than just a place of
food, shelter, and water?  
     The 'too much static baggage' I presume.  What
thoughts are heard?  What guide rails are seen?  What
lights neon and advertise your desires in the modern
day belly dancing and snake charming flutes to be
experienced?  Yet, could not these woods by pulling
our own wild beast from the confines of reason?  Would
not these woods also be mesmerizing campfires for
moths to fly into where death is met?  Would we miss
out on technology and science the modern day hopes and
joys?  And then I realize these are my thoughts in
these woods, because no body else is around to speak
to me.  Yet, I brought these thoughts with me from a
culture that has become a square peg for this woodsy
circle, thus, a non-fit, at least that's what it
seems.  Are these thoughts of mine culturally charged
dismissing some truth outside of our culture and thus,
outside of my thoughts?  
     I sit quietly and listen... my thoughts are
dismissed, yet not forced aside to cause anxiety or
anger.  They come and go.  Clarity... I see something
through this clear mind.  I see a tree.  I hear a
creek flow.  I feel the wind pass.  I smell the
earthened leaves.  I taste the air.  I step back
(metaphorically) and notice something.  I think about
it, but what words will I use.  I picture something,
but what images will I paint.  Are these words or
images fashioned by this culture, that I thought was
the unholy, the untruth, and the unpath to the bliss? 
Are all cultures missing something?  Or is it our
words that we depend upon too much?  These words are
static baggage, they must come and go... yet what is
stable and constraints our movements from becoming
total chaos?  I look around and see the trees. 
Growing tall in numerous directions, yet, locked into
gaps open to the sun.  Focus points where the roots
must crawl where rocks are not present.  Yet, is this
my own analogy defining something using these real
'things' of nature to only prop-up, give status, or
persuade one into a truth just because I use 'things'
that are here and now, seemingly real, full of value? 
Just because the woods are used in my assembly of
truth is it The Truth?  Well, I branch falls and so
does the tree.  Rocks erode and so the roots do rot. 
The sun disappears for the night becoming only a
reflection, something of the past upon the moon.  The
sun's light still seen, so is the sun the lasting
Truth?  I go into a cave, running, fleeing, looking
for that seemingly hidden self that I am to know in
which could be thus then, and finally the lasting
Truth.  What is solid and left for me to touch?  I
feel the sand and rock in this dark, damp cave.  My
heartbeat drowns out all other sounds.  I phase in and
out between my dream world and this world of solid
rock.  
     I realize this, all of this, put together.  This
has been my experience here and now, and this is thus,
the natural world.  I call it life, woods, here and
now, in the city, town, dusty road, or wilderness. 
This experience creeps in, everywhere we are, even on
the moon I suspect this experience we have will still
be an experience.  I would call it woods there as
well, a different kind of woods I guess, one of moon
rocks and less gravity, and dreams of what a blue and
green planet might be like that I would afar off. 
Would that be the Truth?  
     Well, someday I'll die and my spirit will not
make soft this skin of mine.  These dreams will not
settle in this tiny skull, I assume.  The sun will not
be seen through these eyes that will dry-out.  The
rock in the cave will not be touched and realized by
me.  Where is even me, this spirit that I might even
consciously identify as me?  Why does something have
to stay and always be, to be considered a Truth for
all to statically stand upon?  This I think is too
much intellect grasping for something stable. 
Thinking that Truth can be Known.  This is Intellect
at its' worse and ugly clamping upon society, biology,
and inorganic will be seen and thought as demons,
mistakes, and incorrect 'things' of the world.  This
is intellect gone too far.  And here I find myself
simply stating that age old wisdom once again -
balance.


SA
       

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