The unbearable lightness of believing

Judging by the amount of visits (and a few emails) the previous post created a minor stir.

Good.
That was its purpose.

Still, I feel it's worth elaborating on just little bit further.

If a visitor from another planet (let's say many regions in Africa where there is no internet, not to mention some other essential commodities) took a virtual stroll around the WWW (or any library), one of the first things s/he would notice would probably be the overabundance of links, websites, articles, books containing the following tags/keywords: LOA, law of attraction, manifesting, reality creation... and so on.

Assuming s/he knew what they mean, s/he could be forgiven for thinking either that we are a race of turbo manifesters... or that we aren't. Especially that we aren't. People usually look for what they DON'T have.

Everyone seems to KNOW the principle underlying the recent deluge of The Secret-emulators (The Secret, naturally, being nothing but an emulation- and not really a very accomplished one - itself).
And yet presses are spewing out ever new batches of books hammering the same idea under many different names even as we speak.

Why?

Well, the answer is rather obvious, but to illustrate it let me quote a real post, typical of the mentality underlying this abundance of books on abundance:


"I was looking for a book akin to [insert name of any "manifestation" guru, past or present] when I came across [as above]."


Why?

If this person was looking for a book akin to a certain other book, then it's safe to assume s/he liked that first book.
Why, then, did s/he need yet another book telling her basically the same things as the first one?

Either because s/he was not convinced - or because it didn't "work".

Why, then, look for more of the same?

Because this reader - and millions like him or her - is missing the one key (the ignition key!) that makes it all work and without which none of it can work.

FAITH

If you read carefully - or even diagonally, I suppose - through all the books, articles and websites about "reality creation", you may notice that they all talk about the same thing, offering only variants, ever different approaches to CONVINCE yourself about the efficacity of having faith.
In other words, they are offering you methods to build faith in that having faith really works.

And none of them seem to work (except for a silent minority, I suppose).

If people really believed in their own power to co-create reality, no such books would have been needed for the past 2000 years - the approximate time that has elapsed since the following words - among many others - were written for everyone to hear:

"Nothing is impossible to him who believes"

Is there a clearer, more explicit declaration of man's power - and right - to co-create reality, to achieve even the seemingly "impossible"?

No.
It's the essential idea that all "manifestation" books harp on, minus the tacky media marketing, the airy-fairy writing and the price tag.

But then, even Peter - the exemplary everyman (surely you don't think he was chosen as the first "pope" because he was such an outstandingly bright disciple, do you...?) - even Peter himself could not believe. He SAW Christ do mind-boggling miracles, he HEARD him (Him, not some priest) tell him again and again that he, Peter, could do anything Christ could - and more!
Heck, he even mustered enough faith to walk on water... until he remembered he "could not" do it and started to sink.

"You of little faith," said Christ, "why did you doubt?"

Indeed: why?*
Why did Peter doubt his ability to walk on water even after seeing that clearly he COULD do it?

Why do you?

Think about it until you get a clear answer as to whether you can believe - or not. Because if you don't, you might as well give the money (and time) you invest in "manifestation" books, CDs, DVDs and what-not, to charity. Or flush it down the drain, whichever you prefer.

On the bright side, you can start walking on water right NOW.
All you need to do is have faith in faith. Not rational, mental understanding or even "conviction" - no, I mean FAITH.

With it, nothing is impossible.
Without it, no technique will help you. Ever.



* Answer coming up soon.
As soon as you have thought about it yourself.

.-- .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- / ... . . / .. ... / .-- .... .- - / -.-- --- ..- / --. . -

(Image taken from here.)

... and NOW?

- --- / - .-. .- -. ... .-.. .- - . / - .... . / - .. - .-.. . --..-- / -.-. --- .--. -.-- / .. - / .- -. -.. / .--. .- ... - . / .. - / .... . .-. . .-.-.-

Today, every day, forever

© Illustris

... until the end of Times:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

to the most glorious person in the world.

(Wherever you are, you know who you are.
Even though you were never quite aware
of your own glory and worth to others,
you should know who you are.

If you don't, we have failed you.)

Going green: Grow your own furniture

I once heard a story about one of my ancestors who loved birds so much that he had living trees transplanted - in huge pots and barrels - into a special room, so that his many domesticated (at least I hope so!) winged pets could fly around freely, as in a forest.
(I am assuming they did everything else "as in a forest", too, but let's not go there now. I wonder what the cleaner team's descendants are blogging about...)

Anyway, I was delighted when I heard this story, because as a child - being "young and heartless" - I had often thought of somehow doing the same thing. Not because of love of birds (I do love them dearly), but out of love for trees.
I am mad about trees. I love them and respect them and adore them in all but the "heathen" ways. If you ever want to impress me with flower shop gifts, don't bring me cut roses or even potted floral beauties - bring me a small tree in a pot!

And so, I am naturally attracted to everything and anything that has to do with trees as an active part of one's living environment.

Which is all the more reason why I was so surprised to find out that arborsculpture - sculptural shaping of trees - can be used to create furniture, gazebos, you-name-it (even jewelry!).

I mean, it is a thought that surely has crossed the mind of anyone who has ever sat comfortably on all sorts of natural improvised "seats", from tree roots to logs. But to find out that people actually do grow trees with a proper seating or habitational function in mind was somewhat startling.

Read about it here.

To see a number of fascinating traditional examples (mostly bridges) go here:

Living growing architecture

Here is a blog you can follow, with lots of good advice and fabulous examples of tree "architecture" worldwide.

And finally, here is a book you can buy:

I admit, I prefer sleek but comfortable modern furniture to any Louis.
But this is just enchanting.

And it is as "green" as it goes.

What the BLIP...?!

Don't get me wrong: I find excessive obsession with so called "privacy" ridiculous and only helpful as a possible aid to help you unmask your own deepest fears.

(Like, what EXACTLY do you fear would happen if somebody finds out certain of your personal facts or indulgences?
No, really: think about it! It would only matter if the "government" or whoever your pet foe is could actually do something that would impact your life negatively - i.e. something that would not be merely the consequence of your perception of your hypothetical Self in the hypothetical eyes of the Others.
If they could do it, then that usurped power is something you - and the Others - definitely should fight. If they couldn't - if it's all simply a matter of your comfortable perception of your Self as a public person - then the problem lies in you.)

Even more ridiculous is the apparent facility which many people disclose their sex life (real or fictitious) with - but God forbid they should be asked how much they earn! (At least it shows you what really matters to them...)

But who the blip would be as stupid as to broadcast what they are buying, and when, and how much it cost?

My guess is... many.
Wanna bet?

Tell the whole world what you're buying... and in real time, too!

The author of the article hyperlinked above "caught up with Kaplan" (the father of this Frankenstein's bride) "to talk about how Blippy could become a new form of advertising and why no purchase -- even revealing ones -- should be embarrassing to share."

And here's the purpose of the thingy, in a nutshell:

What's the point of Blippy?

Kaplan: Without getting too philosophical, I'll just start at the beginning. The big answer is: We don't know, which I think is funny but is also indicative of what we're trying to do.

Well, I agree: that wasn't too philosophical.
(Not even a little bit, for that matter.)

But the nasty thing about philosophy is that it tends to reveal itself, whether you intend it or not.

"Fun" is the name of the game.

It is true, however, that once you have lost everything (private)... you have nothing left to fear.
Or to lose.

Exhibitionism is the new spirituality.

The Forgotten Language of Creation

I found this website while rummaging through my bookmarks reviewed it... and just had to share it. It's about numbers and their role - possibly much more than just metaphorical - in Creation.

I hope you enjoy it as much I have.

The Forgotten Language of Creation

(BTW, it's based on the Qabbalah.
Do not be afraid of it: there is no mention of Madonna - not that there is anything wrong with her - or any "recruitment" material, although it is a part of a commercial site offering certain services.)

Rohmer and I

Another peripheral fixture of my life gone.
Eric Rohmer.

I didn't even know it, until today, when I visited one of my - our - favourite film sites (no, not IMDB - not even in the same neighbourhood as pitiful IMDB) and saw a blog entry about his passing, on the 11th of January.

It's funny, my relationship with Rohmer...
I seldom "agreed" with him - nor was I expected to - and he infuriated me much too often for comfort.
And yet, he won me over every time.
Long before I learnt anything substantial about him as a person I already felt towards him the sort of warm - non-reverential but profound - respect and genuine fondness one would feel towards a village philosopher that had been something of a rake in his younger days.
(N.B. Rohmer was neither, as far as I know, and this observation tells more about me than about him - of course.)
Or, much more accurately, the kind of friendly respect and fondness that I feel towards an impossibly intelligent and educated Jesuit priest of my acquaintance, who knows more about Life and humanity than most rakes could ever hope to.

But there is more.

I suspect that much of the fuzzy pleasure (seemingly incongruous with his verbosely intellectual contemplation of life) that I always felt while watching Rohmer's films - and even before I watched them, simply anticipating them - is the reflected glow of a summer long ago, when I was only beginning to live life as I thought it should be lived. (I was wrong, BTW.)

Eric Rohmer's films - a retrospective - happened to be there as a backdrop.
Not "luscious" - just close enough to life, to my life, to lend it, my own life, the sort of cinematic quality that was the reflection of my own gaze.

I bet you have no idea what I am babbling about...
I do, if that's of any consolation. But when people and situations on which I relied to derive comfort from disappear - black out - from my life, I feel forlorn and I cannot write well.
I am not sure I even want to write "well". I am not sure I even know what to write.
I only know I have to put it in writing:

Eric Rohmer was a part of my life - a very inconspicuous but constant one - and now he is gone.

And I am still here.

Where am I?

The landscape around me has changed so much I can't recognise it anymore.
I don't want to recognise it anymore.

But I know - and Rohmer would probably disagree with me, violently! - there is, there must be, a silent secret soft spot in this landscape, among all these seemingly static forms and long-trodden paths, where a light unseen can penetrate the world and reveal it for the mirage it is.
And then, I can take the other road.
Exchange one mirage for another.

Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur Rohmer.
This wasn't supposed to be about me.
But of course, as always - it is.

Don't know what this is?

Adieu, Miep

Miep Gies has died, a month and two days shy of her 101st birthday.

I had the good fortune of exchanging a few letters with her in the late 1990s.

She never liked being called a "hero".
I can understand that. I agree with her that what she did is what any human being should do - no more, no less.

She was a lady.
What a lady!

But for some strange reason what I remember most fondly - apart from her being the protector of Anne Frank and the custodian of her diary before it was published - is that she was once the "best Charleston dancer in Amsterdam".
(You can take a girl out of Vienna, but you can't take Vienna out of a girl. :)

And why not?
It is a joyful heart what makes us want to dance.

There is little room for darkness in a joyful heart, and no room at all for evil.
A joyful heart doesn't need eyes to see, or ears to hear.

The song coming from a joyful heart is possibly the best prayer there is.
And I suspect the dance steps dictated by a joyful heart lead directly to paradise, wherever it is.


So, Miep, here is something just for you...

Catch your breath: Catch Music

We just found the most wonderful relaxing video game.
(And who knows how many hundreds of thousands of people have found it, like, two years ago...)

It's NOT for those who like aggressive gaming, loud or weird (or both) audio effects, or story lines that involve blood and gore. Or even characters, for that matter.

It is also not for people who are irritated by piano music.
(Oh yes, they exist.)

But if you fancy a few minutes of real relaxation, to collect your thoughts - or to scatter them - you might want to give it a try.


All you have to remember is:

YELLOW SHAPES ARE GOOD,
RED SHAPES ARE BAD,

and

PURPLE SHAPES ARE...

well, you'll see.

You can play it right here, if you want.
(Sorry for the momentarily disappearing sidebar.
There's nothing interesting there, anyway.)

But because it was originally - i.e. three or four "forward" emails ago - found through BonteGames (a treasure trove of really cool video games!), we think it's only fair to mention it. (And you can find the original Music Catch I here.)


Enjoy.
Relax.
Have fun.

This is "hilarious"!

... And after yesterday's sombre musing, perhaps a very welcome P.S.

Judge for yourself:

Gallery of "misused" quotation marks

(Found through The Cabinet, another of our recent new favourites.)


The only thing is, once you have had your laughs - plenty of them! :) - you cannot help yourself but try and mis-quote every other word...

Goolture, or The Twilight of Culture

Twenty years ago, a woman complained to me about her eleven year old daughter's teacher:

"Imagine, she was upset with T. [the woman's daughter] because she had never heard about Michelangelo... I mean... Did you know about Michelangelo when you were eleven years old?"

(I don't remember what I told her - probably the truth, for the truth never really hurts - but I can tell you: When I was eleven years old, I was able to name and visually recognise at least two of Michelangelo's sculptural works.)

Ten years ago, a young woman (barely three years younger than myself) - supposedly a film fan, mind you - replied: "Oh, I know nothing about that, that was waaaay before my time...!" when asked whether she liked Greta Garbo.

A few months ago, I saw a news item purporting that some high school students (in the USA, I believe) thought Adolf Hitler was a football coach.
(I hope they got the national team right, if nothing else.)

And today, as I visited one of my favourite websites I saw this entry:

In 1793, two years after publishing his translation of Homer, William Cowper received this letter from 12-year-old Thomas Hayley, pointing out its defects:

Read the rest of it here.


Of course, the likes of young Master Thomas Hayley were exceptional even in those times.
But there is little doubt that general education has fallen to appallingly low levels in the past few decades, while functional illiteracy seems to be rampant.
(About functional illiteracy being a social construct, read here. Some, in fact, speak of three forms of illiteracy: functional, cultural and moral.)

And what's even more mind-boggling, it has done so in an age when there is an unprecedented variety and accessibility of learning resources.

A paradox?

No, not really.
There is in the human being a certain tendency towards "economy" that makes us prefer the path of least resistance. And when the paths are smoothed out and made widely available, as they are now, you get a highway to social, cultural, yes, even moral entropy.

In fact, it could be argued that the very resources that were supposed to facilitate learning and make it accessible as never before (such as Wikipedia and, most notably, Google) in fact contribute to the long-term downfall of education and culture - or, as the vox populi likes to say, to the "dumbing down" of the world.

You see, culture (as a catalyst for progress) cannot thrive on mediocrity - and we live in the empire of mediocrity, fuelled by the likes of Wikipedia (as noble-minded as its original purpose was), not to mention the ever-proliferating forums on all sorts of subjects where everyone is afforded a say.
(Everyone having a say is not the problem, of course: the problem is that such forums tend to level out the contributions of each of the participants, regardless of their age or level of education. "Popular" contributors are no longer those who really know the most about any given subject, but those whose discourse - I have to call it by some name - sounds the most appealing to most of the other forum participants.
Even formerly high-brow news outlets, such as major newspapers (not tabloids), are fuelling this phenomenon, by having succumbed to the recent frenzy of "empowerment" of the disgruntled and the semi-literate by means of rating other people's comments; now, even their readers can rate other people's written thoughts, and can do so disregarding their objective quality or the lack thereof.)

And so, we have arrived to a culture where trivial and error-ridden books on all sorts of "codes" can become best-sellers, and grammar is considered an obsolete hindrance to "expression".

Is this what the Thomas Hayleys of yesteryear went to school for and struggled through their Latin, English, mathematics, ancient Greek, solfeggio, physics, French lessons for?

Is this what Giordano Bruno was burnt for? 

Is this what women - not only Elena Cornaro but many other, less lucky women - and later people of "undesirable" skin colour or social condition had to endure public shame and threats for, when they wanted to access higher learning?

Oh right. Who cares. That was before our time.