Kung Fu

 Way back in the early 1970s I was, like many others, very taken with the TV series Kung Fu about the adventures and travails of an American/Chinese, Shaolin Monastery-trained monk and martial arts master in the often violent world of the 19th century American West. Utilising the classic dramatic device of a 'clash of cultures', the central character Kwai Chang Caine, played by David Carradine, attempted to live by and promote the essentially Daoist teachings he had acquired from his Chinese Masters.

Over many years, I often recalled my fondness for the show, it's central character and general ethos. I sometimes found myself wondering about its potentially formative influence on my own philosophical leanings. So earlier this year I decided to re-watch some of the episodes to see what 'lessons' they contained. To date I've only completed the entire first series but there are still some wonderful quotations to be found in its scripts. Following are those of which I made particular note. I hope you might enjoy them as I still do?

Kung Fu: Season 1

Pilot
'If one's words are no better than silence, one should keep silent.'

 

Episode 1 - King of the Mountain
'Only acknowledge [needs], and satisfaction will follow. To suppress a truth is to give it force beyond endurance.'

 

Episode 4 - An Eye for an Eye
'He who knows how to live, need not fear death. Because a man who knows how to live, has no place for death to enter.'

'To hate is like drinking salt water [your] thirst gets worse.'

'Hate is the tomb you weave. It will not save you from suffering '

'What kind of man are you?'
'A man. Like other men.'

 

Episode 5 - The Tide
'If a man dwells on the past, then he robs the present. But if a man ignores the past, he may rob the future. The seeds of our destiny are nurtured by the roots of our past.'

'Where's your horse?'
'I have no horse.'
'How do you get around?
'I walk.'

'Those who value freedom most, must sometimes choose to lose it.'

 

Episode 6 - The Soul is the Warrior
'A tree falling in the forest without ears to hear, makes no sound. Yet, it falls.'

 

Episode 7 - Nine Lives
'To go anywhere, begin by taking a first step.'

'Is it not sad master, that the hands of a man may strike a blow, as well as caress?'
'Pain and pleasure are like two bells, side by side, and the voice of each makes a trembling in the other.'

'In his own time, each man finds a place to stand.'

 

Episode 8 - Sun and Cloud Shadow
'I have three treasures which I hold and keep. The first is mercy, for from mercy comes courage. The second is frugality, from which comes generosity to others. The third is humility, for from it comes leadership.'
'Strange treasures. How shall I hold them and keep them? In memory?'
'No, not in memory, but in your deeds.'

 

Episode 9 - Chains
'We are one, yet we are not the same. Ten million living things, have as many different worlds.'

'Do not see yourself as the centre of the universe, wise and good and beautiful. Seek rather wisdom, goodness and beauty, that you may honour them everywhere.'

 

Episode 10 - Alethea
'To say and to listen. To teach what we know truly to those who do not know. To send peaceful thoughts over the bridge of words.'

'Reach out, but be wary of what you allow yourself to grasp.'

 

Episode 11 - The Praying Mantis Kills
'I do not do it. It is not done … It is only experienced. It happens … The pole [target], the arrow, the bow, are one. Not many things. Not different things. One.'

'It is good, it remains a puzzle. When you cease to strive to understand, then you will know, without understanding.'

 

Episode 13 - The Stone
'So is truth, hard to understand, except that which cannot be spoken.'
'But should I not always speak the truth, no matter what the consequences?'
'Recognise that all words are part false, and part true, limited by our imperfect understanding. But strive always for honesty within yourself.'

'What is cowardice, but the body's wisdom of its weakness. What is bravery, but the body's wisdom of its strength. The coward and the hero march together within every man. So to call one man coward and another brave, merely serves to indicate the possibilities of their achieving the opposite.'

'To fight injustice anywhere, is to fight it everywhere.'

 

Episode 14 - The Third Man
'What's your name?'
'Caine.'
'What do you do Caine?'
'I work, eat, learn.'

'In every loss there is gain, as in every gain there is loss.'

'It is a fact, it is not the truth. Truth is often hidden, like a shadow in darkness.'

'Love cannot measure itself until the hour of parting.'

'Is not to trust, to rely on someone of whom you know nothing?'

'You've learned to trust people, but doesn't it hurt you?'
'And you, not trusting, are you not hurt more?'

'I seek, not to know all the answers, but to understand the questions.'

 

Episode 15 - The Ancient Warrior
'Can't I be of help?'
'Any man can be of help to another man. What have you to offer?'

'Master, what is the best way to meet the loss of one we love?'
'By knowing that when we truly love, it is never lost. It is only after death that the depth of a bond is truly felt, and our loved one becomes more a part of us than was possible in life.'
'Are we only able to feel this toward those whom we have known and loved a long time?'
'Sometimes a stranger known to us for moments can spark our souls to kinship for eternity.'
'How can strangers take on such importance to our souls?'
'Because our soul does not keep time, but merely records growth.'

'It is better to cover the land with love than to let it cover you with hate.'

Betterment

 I have spoken before in this blog (Beyond the Ends of the Rainbow, June 2018) about Brian Eno's 1993 essay 'Axis Thinking' (A Year with Swollen Appendices, Faber & Faber, 1996) and the concept of continuums as a handy visualisation tool to assist in our comprehension of complex entangled multi-dimensional meshes of potentiality. I'm going to propose a continuum that we might encounter in our engagement with data as we struggle toward ideation for betterment of our flourishing upon and with this planet. A global eudaimonia perhaps?

I suggest a starting point (though, on a continuum, obviously the start is almost arbitrary and is liable to shift with time and circumstance) at 'Event'. Event is any unobserved occurrence. There are all sorts of nonsense arguments, largely to do with word-play, along the lines that Events only occur if they are observed. I say bollocks, quantum physics notwithstanding. The tree still fell in the forest whether or not we were there to witness it doing so and is now busily being converted back to a less ordered state by innumerable insects, fungi and micro-organisms. So let's not get stuck in a philosophical bog but leave the tree to suffer its noble fate and instead move ourselves along. Next on our continuum comes therefore, quite logically, 'Observation' in whatever manner as best suits the Event and the Observer; sight, sound, touch, taste, smell and more, in isolation or combination. Observation is simple witnessing, an engagement with our perceptual senses alone. I'm going to temporarily overlook biological, social, intellectual and other biases and influences upon this and subsequent steps along our continuum for now, though I will highlight their import shortly.

Observation is then potentially, but not necessarily - as the Observer may simply internalise their perception of the Event and move on - followed by 'Recording' in all its many forms - textual, audio, visual and more again, across numerous media. I am using Recording as a verb, an active process, not a resultant product but it is still an important step to isolate for our purposes of understanding this proposed model. The end result of the process of Recording, the product, is 'Data' - pages of text, tables of numbers, graphs and charts, drawings and musical notation, etc. Up to this point, a solitary individual has engaged with or Observed the Event and the Data produced by their Recording exists in relative isolation. In earlier times, sitting perhaps in a hand written notebook (though it could of course take numerous forms), it might never go further and could remain dormant for eternity or be destroyed by fire or other means of neglect and eventual destruction. I will now briefly highlight, as promised, that of course every step after the initial Event is of necessity imbued with the inevitability of biological, social, intellectual and other biases and influences. How we Observe Events, Record Data, and more, is a factor of who we are, how we were raised, the culture and environment within which and alongside whom we live, etc. Every person is unique, and therefore uniquely experiences and 'understands' their world. This very uniqueness is vital to the proposition of Betterment. Also, for our proposed model of the continuum existing as just one slim strand of possibility, these biological, social, intellectual etc. variabilities exist on their own intersecting continuums and are precisely what contributes to the complex, entangled multi-dimensional mesh of potential being explored.

The Data - the content of the 'notebook' needs further intervention through reading, or even publication, to progress to the next level on our continuum - 'Information', wherein the Data can be accessed by other persons. Data can only be Information if someone is Informed - they are not synonymous. Information is consumed by the recipient, but not at this point actually assimilated into their active memory. This is, if you like, a surface engagement only. Until relatively recently, broad circulation of Data to enable it becoming Information was time consuming, expensive and frequently thwarted by the vagaries of the publishing world, or the socio-economic status, literacy etc. of its potential audience. Data can of course also be progressed to Information via word of mouth, but we all know the dangers of verbal chains of Information dissemination as highlighted by such as the Telephone Game. Though just maybe we should see such possibility of distortion as simply another intersecting continuum in our mesh?

The internet changed this situation. Suddenly one person among millions, from many walks of life across manifold geographical locations and raised within numerous cultures, could place their Data on a multiplicity of subjects into a location accessible by all the others with access to the resource, enabling relatively cheap and easy creation of an almost horizonless sea of Information. This was the Information Revolution. It was proposed it would, inevitably, change our world - for the Better.

But. You heard that coming I think? But, Information is still just consumed Data. It has a few more steps to take along our continuum before it starts to make improvements. Information is no more than that which we rapidly access with a simple Google search to answer a crossword clue or settle an argument at the pub. For Information to progress further it first of all needs, as implied earlier, to become assimilated into active memory - able to be utilised at will in future. This is 'Knowledge'. I want to make a qualitative distinction at this point to hopefully clarify a possible confusion in our use of language. I am using here a 'high-value' understanding of the word Knowledge which is different from the oft encountered conversational phrases 'I know!' or 'I just want to know!' For the purpose of this post I judge these latter two phrases to be examples of no more than a social, surface engagement with Information that could perhaps be termed idle chat or even gossip, that is not necessarily likely to further progress along our continuum. Since I used earlier the gustatory metaphor of Information being consumed, perhaps I can here suggest this 'low-value' use of 'know' to be a form of chewing the cud wherein it is worked over and over but produces principally excrement and very little of nutritional benefit?

Our (high-value) Knowledge can now exist in remove from the Information source and, most importantly, it can be mentally mixed with other acquired Knowledge in new and unique combinations, either in a single person's mind or through discussion with other persons. This is our next step, 'Ideation'. This is a word not frequently encountered for an activity perpetually engaged upon. It is the source of creativity and a vital component of the design process. We all potentially Ideate many times on an average day as a critical part of otherwise routine tasks - selecting an unusual combination of garments to wear when our usual preferences are in the wash, concocting a dish or menu from a random assortment of ingredients left in the refrigerator and pantry, improvising a fix for a broken item with the tools and materials we have to hand rather than trek to the hardware store. Creativity is not the special reserve of a social elite of artists, designers, authors,  scientists, mathematicians, composers and the like who are inaccurately said to be 'gifted' with 'genius' but a skill we all possess and all have the capability to improve through learning, practice and application. Creativity - Ideation - is critical to avoid stagnation in all its forms and one of our most vital tools. We would all do well to explore to a much greater extent our boundless capacity to creatively and productively Ideate.

Now is perhaps a good opportunity to point out that our continuum is not of necessity restricted to a single direction of flow. Newly arranged and combined Knowledge - Ideas - holding the potential for further progression, can instead become new Knowledge, shared Information or recorded Data and so on. However another and more desirable outcome of Ideas may be their application to addressing an issue. Futhermore, if the issue being addressed is the resolution of a dilemma - be it physical, mental, emotional, ethical or what-have-you - with a successful outcome, then it may be deemed to have progressed along our continuum and become 'Wisdom'. Wisdom is the quality to which we all perhaps aspire? It is frequently portrayed as being the reserve of Wise old sages and beyond the reach of the common people as they negotiate their routine daily tasks, but I hope I have shown this to be a fallacy as it is nothing more than two simple steps further after Knowledge, which we all uniquely hold. Some of our Knowledge might of course be considered to be what we term common Knowledge, but the greater part of our individual quotient is indeed truly unique and therefore uniquely powerful in its potential for Ideation and Wisdom.

Some Wisdom when shared is simply an evening-out of distribution of benefits - bringing one or more persons to a point of understanding or quality of life that is already broadly accepted, embraced and enjoyed by an alternative majority (or, sadly, perhaps a privileged minority). But other Wisdom is newly minted and deliberately, or through fortuitous circumstance, produces the possibility of yet a further advance on our continuum and produces 'Betterment'.

Betterment (the word) is no more than my choice of term for what has perhaps been known for countless generations among those of philosophical bent as Eudaimonia. The 'flourishing' promoted as the highest good - the ultimate aim of practical philosophy - by such as Aristotle, Epicurus and others before and since. However, whilst Epicureanism sought to promote flourishing for its immediate communities, I propose Betterment as a seeking and working toward much broader, greater, perhaps global and even potentially universal application.  It is, I feel, also somewhat akin to the Dynamic Quality proposed in the frankly extraordinary (though seemingly little known or regarded?) book Lila: An Enquiry into Morals by Robert M. Pirsig (Bantam Press, 1991). Lila is the sequel, written under a grant from the Guggenheim Foundation, to his earlier and highly acclaimed Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry into Values (William Morrow & Co., 1974).

Importantly, if indeed Betterment equates to or approaches Pirsig's concept of Dynamic Quality, it means that not only can it produce Better, but it actually IS Better. It possesses the unassailable value of Better. Better, however, not simply for humanity (for that in isolation is surely not inherently Better) but Better for all existence. A Betterment that recognises and creates the possibility and eventual realisation of true unity of understanding and existence. And this is precisely why I have chosen, for an English speaking audience only admittedly, this particular word. For me at least, it has semantically less baggage or connotation to falsely weigh it down. Prosperity, happiness, blessedness and welfare all carry connotations that can suggest evanescent financial, emotional, religious or charitable gains but which are not of themselves wholly and universally Better. This is not 'self-satisfaction'. This is most certainly not 'progress'. This is an altogether 'higher' form of advancement. It perhaps cannot be fully contained by a simple word in any language?

But what I hope I have proposed with clarity and conviction, is that this possibility of contribution toward Betterment is available to us all. It is little more than another step along our continuum from Wisdom as outlined in all I've proposed above and which perhaps would here benefit from a simple linear representation: (Though shown of course in isolation from the truly wonderful and complex mesh of which it forms a single, though vital, strand of potential as it wends its way through engagement with different races, cultures, beliefs, understandings and more.)

Event - Observation - Recording - Data - Information - Knowledge - Ideation - Wisdom - Betterment

Finally we reached the Betterment that I mentioned was proposed to be the inevitable outcome of the Information Revolution as it changed our world almost beyond recognition. But as I've suggested, there are a few very important steps between and I don't believe we can jump over them so lightly. Hopscotch this is not. To truly attain Betterment I think we first need to engender and navigate the Knowledge Revolution, the Ideation Revolution and the Wisdom Revolution. Strong evidence for any of which I have not as yet broadly witnessed in recent global affairs. There are occasional faint glimmers of hope and opportunity but we perhaps unfortunately largely see possibility for true change at a falsely perceived remove from our own potential. Until we all, humanity at large, embrace the true possibility of advancing, individually and collectively, the extra few steps along our continuum toward Betterment, I fear perhaps we may doom ourselves to forever oscillate at a lower range on our continuum of potential, if not perhaps to reduce our 'forever' to an unnecessarily short count of our planetary years?

Betterment is possible and perhaps now we have the small beginnings of a map to follow toward it? Are you prepared to add your unique contribution to a potentially global investment in its attainment?

December 2020

Humans

Another 'contribution' from an alternative author. The following is from a 'list' which forms an entire chapter in Matt Haig's quite wonderful observation of the species - around which he has constructed a delightful narrative. Like so many other volumes, it is a great mistake to dismiss it as 'just a children's book'.

All the advice is sound, despite some entries being more specifically related to the narrative itself. I have only selected 72 from the full count of 97, plus I've made minor edits on some for the purpose of this post. As a consequence, my numbering differs from that in the book. I find (my numbering) 49, 50 & 51 a nice trio. 55 always makes me smile. And, among others, 3 & 71 are particularly suited to my Daoist outlook.

I feel compelled to add the usual disclaimer concerning advice, as originally penned by Mary Schmich for the Chicago Tribune in 1997:

'Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.'

Enjoy ... And read the book!

My selections from 'Advice for a human', The Humans, Matt Haig, 2013 

1. Shame is a shackle. Free yourself.
2. Don't worry about your abilities. You have the ability to love. That is enough.
3. Be nice to other people. At the universal level, they are you.
4. Technology won't save humankind. Humans will.
5. Laugh. It suits you.
6. Be curious. Question everything. A present fact is just a future fiction.
7. Peanut butter sandwiches go perfectly well with a glass of white wine. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
8. Sometimes, to be yourself you will have to forget yourself and become something else. Your character is not a fixed thing. You will sometimes have to move to keep up with it.
9. Sex can damage love but love can't damage sex.
10. You shouldn't have been born. Your existence is as close to impossible as can be. To dismiss the impossible is to dismiss yourself.
11. Your life will have 25,000 days in it. Make sure you remember some of them.
12. The road to snobbery is the road to misery.
13. Tragedy is just comedy that hasn't come to fruition. One day we will laugh at this. We will laugh at everything.
14. Wear clothes, by all means, but remember: they are clothes.
15. One life form's gold is another life form's tin can.
16. If you become an architect, remember this: The square is nice. So is the rectangle. But you can overdo it.
17. Don't worry about being angry. Worry when being angry becomes impossible. Because then you have been consumed.
18. Happiness is not out here. It is in there.
19. New technology, on Earth, just means something you will laugh at in five years. Value the stuff you won't laugh at in five years. Like love. Or a good poem. Or a song. Or the sky.
20. There is only one genre in fiction. The genre is called 'book'.
21. Dogs are geniuses of loyalty. And that is a good kind of genius to have.
22. If there is a sunset, stop and look at it. Knowledge is finite. Wonder is infinite.
23. Don't aim for perfection. Evolution, and life, only happens through mistakes.
24. Failure is a trick of the light.
25. You are human. You will care about money. But realise it can't make you happy because happiness is not for sale.
26. You are not the most intelligent creature in the universe. You are not even the most intelligent creature on your planet. The tonal language in the song of a humpback whale displays more complexity than the entire works of Shakespeare. It is not a competition. Well, it is. But don't worry about it.
27. One day humans will live on Mars. But nothing there will be more exciting than a single overcast morning on Earth.
28. Don't always try and be cool. The whole universe is cool. It's the warm bits that matter.
29. You will contradict yourself. You are large. You contain multitudes.
30. No one is ever completely right about anything. Anywhere.
31. Everyone is a comedy. If people are laughing at you, they just don't quite understand the joke that is themselves.
32. Your brain is open. Never let it be closed.
33. In a thousand years, if humans survive that long, everything you know will have been disproved. And replaced by even bigger myths.
34. Everything matters.
35. You have the power to stop time. You do it by kissing. Or listening to music. Music, by the way, is how you see things you can't otherwise see. It is the most advanced thing you have. It is a superpower.
36. A paradox. The things you don't need to live - books, art, cinema, wine and so on - are the things you need to live.
37. A cow is a cow even if you call it beef.
38. No two moralities match. Accept different shapes, so long as they aren't sharp enough to hurt.
39. Don't be scared of anyone.
40. At some point, bad things are going to happen. Have someone to hold on to.
41. Alcohol in the evening is very enjoyable. Hangovers in the morning are very unpleasant. At some point you have to choose: Evenings, or mornings.
42. If you are laughing, check that you don't really want to cry. And vice versa.
43. Don't ever be afraid of telling someone you love them. There are things wrong with your world, but an excess of love is not one.
44. You are not the only species on Earth with technology. Look at ants. Really. Look. What they do with twigs and leaves is quite amazing.
45. It is not the length of life that matters. It's the depth. But while burrowing, keep the sun above you.
46. Obey your head. Obey your heart. Obey your gut. In fact, obey everything except commands.
47. One day, if you get into a position of power, tell people this: Just because you can, it doesn't mean you should. There is a power and a beauty in unproved conjectures, unkissed lips and unpicked flowers.
48. Start fires. But only metaphorically. Unless you are cold and it's a safe setting. In which case: Start fires.
49. Be alive. That is your supreme duty to the world.
50. Don't think you know. Know you think.
51. As a black hole forms it creates an immense gamma-ray burst, blinding whole galaxies with light and destroying millions of worlds. You could disappear at any second. This one. Or this one. Or this one. Make sure, as often as possible, you are doing something you'd be happy to die doing.
52. War is the answer. To the wrong question.
53. Physical attraction is, primarily, glandular.
54. No one will understand you. It is not, ultimately, that important. What is important is that you understand you.
55. A quark is not the smallest thing. The smallest thing is the regret you will feel on your deathbed for not having worked more.
56. Politeness is often fear. Kindness is always courage. But caring is what makes you human. Care more, become more human.
57. In your mind, change the name of every day to Saturday. And change the name of work to play.
58. When you watch the news and see members of your species in turmoil, do not think there is nothing you can do. But know it is not done by watching news.
59. You get up. You put on your clothes. And then you put on your personality. Choose wisely.
60. Language is euphemism. Love is truth.
61. You can't find happiness looking for the meaning of life. Meaning is only the third most important thing. It comes after loving and being.
62. If you think something is ugly, look harder. Ugliness is just a failure of seeing.
63. A watched pot never boils. That is all you need to know about quantum physics.
64. You are more than the sum of your particles. And that is quite a sum.
65. To like something is to insult it. Love it or hate it. Be passionate. As civilisation advances, so does indifference. It is a disease. Immunise yourself with art. And love.
66. Dark matter is needed to hold galaxies together. Your mind is a galaxy. More dark than light. But the light makes it worthwhile.
67. Which is to say: Always know that life is not still. Even when the darkness is total. Time is space. You are moving through that galaxy. Wait for the stars.
68. At the sub-atomic level, everything is complex. But do not live at the sub-atomic level. You have the right to simplify. If you don't you will go insane.
69. But know this. Men are not from Mars. Women are not from Venus. Do not fall for categories. Everyone is everything. Every ingredient inside a star is inside you, and every personality that every existed competes in the theatre of your mind for the main role.
70. You are lucky to be alive. Inhale and take in life's wonders. Never take so much as a single petal of a single flower for granted.
71. You don't have to be anything. Don't force it. Feel your way, and don't stop feeling your way until something fits. Maybe nothing will. Maybe you are a road, not a destination. That is fine. Be a road. But make sure it's one with something to look at out of the window.
72. Be kind to your mother. And try to make her happy.

Poetry

Context

The following small selection of works are the greater bulk of my paltry efforts at poetry in my life; or certainly the only ones I ever bothered to keep. They were written during my late teens/early twenties in a few of the many share houses I occupied over this period. I had left school at fifteen and the family home at seventeen. Like most young people, I was in the process of discovering and forging my identity, and struggling with loneliness, poor social skills, discrimination and perhaps at times, creative frustration; the seemingly typical floundering of our poorly educated and largely socially ignored youth.

They are arranged quite simply in chronological order. The first is perhaps particularly bleak but, importantly, I am still here and living a full life forty years later. The low troughs and high crests on this roller-coaster we call life are the yin and yang that give it flavour and balance; they don't sit in conflict or even so much cancel each other out, as provide, in combination, a varied yet complete unity. They invite us, as suggested in the Tao Te Ching, to 'blunt the sharp thing and untangle the knot'.

Please always remember … If you are feeling distressed or in need of support, help is as close as your phone or laptop … Or simply ask a passing stranger … 'Could you please help me?'

Lifeline - 13 11 14

Beyond Blue - 1300 22 46 36

Mental Health Resource List - https://mhaustralia.org/need-help

Poems

Sunday

Blaring sax, from the speakers.

The washing's inside, it's raining.

Counting heartbeats, out of time.

How long have I been staring at that spider?

 

Five days work, two days nothing.

Feel like a shower, it's cold.

I'll turn the record over.

My fingers don't stop moving, they're nervous.

 

The phone rings, for me.

'Oh hi, how've you been, oh.

Oh yeah, if you like, yeah sure.

No, it's just that I'm down, no okay, bye.'

 

Looking at the movie lists.

They're lonely on your own.

Get some milk from the fridge.

They say it's hard to do, kill yourself.

 

Ha! I wouldn't have the guts.

It's stopped raining, but it's late.

Don't feel like cooking tea.

Maybe I'll write a letter. No, a poem.

 

Annandale, 1980

 

Curves

In a room with three corners and a curve

in the air, so the music's never the way it was

and your fingers stroll lost over the strings.

 

In a room with three corners and a curve

in the road outside the window, downstairs,

so the cars brake, your train of thoughts, lost.

 

In a room with three corners and a curve

in the time and the second hand falls quicker than it climbs,

your hand turns it anti-clockwise.

 

In a room with three corners and a curve

in your mind and the bats outside cry

as they plummet to their death three models old.

 

In a room with three corners and a curve

in the wall, and a floor below the ceiling which is white,

right where they're meant to be.

 

Double Bay, 1981

Escape #1

Melancholy is a beautiful thing

Standing

Staring

In the doorway

 

Music is a beautiful thing

Flitting

Floating

On the airwaves

 

Mountains are beautiful things

Majestic

Magnificent

In the sunset

 

Memories are beautiful things

Memories of mountains

Music

And melancholy

 

Memories of being with you

And wanting to escape

 

Paddington, 1982

 

Escape #2

Trapped, in a void

Free, in a cage

A city

 

Quiet, taxi's horn

Screaming, always silent

A street

 

Sad, speaking gaily

Happy, drunken depression

A house

 

An empty house

Mountains

Sunsets

Rain

 

Paddington, 1982

 

Surroundings

Out the window

Grey sky

Eye pot chimneys

Cool breeze

 

Through the doorway

Wet clothes

Photo ripped paper

Cockroach

 

In the kitchen

Dirty pans

Spray dead Mortein

Croissants

 

On the player

Black disc

Sad white sugar

Rodriguez

 

Of the mind

NMR scan

Old house songs

Images

 

Paddington, 1982

 

Bi Blues

Old or new born

Brings their scorn

On you

 

You didn't want it to be this way

You know it just turned out this way

 

See them so young

And feel it burn

Your heart

 

The gods play with the youths

The gods play with you too

 

What is this longing

This not belonging

You hope it will just go away

One day

Some day

 

Brief happiness

New found friend

It's him

 

You just wish it would last

But you feel it go fast

 

Older new girl

Feeling secure

Is it her

 

But then the arguments start

And again it's your heart

 

And so it burns

The calendar turns

You know it's going to be this way

For days

Some days

 

Surry Hills, (1983-6?)

Walkabout

 I was saddened recently to receive news of the death of Maurice Gibbons, a beautiful, gentle man and champion of Self-Directed Learning. The following early article by him illustrates with clarity his belief in the value of true immersion in the now as a powerful tool for self-knowledge and finding our worth to a larger community. I hope you enjoy it and join me as I (in the words of his bereaved wife) 'pour an ample glass of red wine and toast all of our loved ones who have gone on ahead'.

Vale Maurice!

Searching for the Right Passage from Childhood and School By Maurice Gibbons

This article about the challenge approach to self-directed learning was first published in the "Phi Delta Kappan" in May, 1974. It became the most requested reprint in the history of the "Kappan", won an excellence award from "Education Digest", and was reprinted in over a dozen books. For several years the "Kappan" produced a Walkabout Newsletter and Walkabout school programs appeared. Several of these are still active after nearly thirty years. In May, 1984, the "Kappan" published "Walkabout Ten Years Later" and reports from several active programs. The main features of Walkabout, in adapted form, now appear in a wide array of educational approaches. The version that follows is edited to about two thirds of the original article's length. W

A year ago I saw an Australian film called Walkabout which was so provocative -- and evocative -- I am still rerunning scenes from it in my mind. In the movie, two children escape into the desert-like wilderness of the outback when their father, driven mad by failure in business, attempts to kill them. Within hours they are exhausted, lost, and helpless. Inappropriately dressed in private school uniforms, unable to find food or protection from the blazing heat, and with no hope of finding their way back, they seem certain to die. At the last moment they are found and cared for by a young aborigine, a native Australian boy on his walkabout, a six-months-long endurance test during which he must survive alone in the wilderness and return to his tribe an adult, or die in the attempt. In contrast to the city children, he moves through the forbidding wilderness as if it were part of his village. He survives not only with skill but with grace and pride as well, whether stalking kangaroo in a beautiful but deadly ballet, seeking out the subtle signs of direction, or merely standing watch. He not only endures, he merges with the land, and he enjoys. When they arrive at the edge of civilization, the aborigine offers -- in as ritual dance -- to share his life with the white girl and boy he has befriended, but they finally leave him and the outback to return home. The closing scenes show them immersed again in the conventions of suburban life, but dreaming of their adventure, their fragment of a walkabout. 

The movie is a haunting work of art. It is also haunting comment on education. What I find most provocative is the stark contrast between the aborigine's walkabout experience and the test of adolescent's readiness for adulthood in our own society. The young native faces a severe but extremely appropriate trial, one in which he must demonstrate the knowledge and skills necessary to make him a contributor to the tribe rather than a drain on its meager resources. By contrast, the young North American is faced with written examinations that test skills very far removed from the actual experience he will have in real life. He writes; he does not act. He solves familiar theoretical problems; he does not apply what he knows in strange but real situations. He is under direction in a protected environment to the end; he does not go out into the world to demonstrate that he is prepared to survive in, and contribute to, our society. His preparation is primarily for the mastery of content and skills in the disciplines and has little to do with reaching maturity, achieving adulthood, or developing fully as a person. 

The isolation involved in the walkabout is also in sharp contrast to experience in our school system. In an extended period of solitude at a crucial stage of his development, the aborigine is confronted with a challenge not only to his competence, but also to his inner or spiritual resources. For his Western counterpart, however, school is always a crowd experience. Seldom separated from his class, friends or family, he has little opportunity to confront his anxieties, explore his inner resources, and come to terms with the world and his future in it. Certainly, he receives little or no training in how to deal with such issues. There are other contrasts, too, at least between the Australian boy and the urban children in the movie: his heightened sensory perception, instinct, and intuition, senses which seem numbed in them; his genuine, open, and empathic response toward them in saving their lives, and their inability to finally overcome their suspicious and defensive self-interest to save his. And above all there is his love and respect for the land even as he takes from it what he needs; and the willful destruction of animals and landscape which he observes in disbelief during his brushes with civilization. 

Imagine for a moment two children, a young native looking ahead to his walkabout and a young North American looking ahead to grade 12 as the culminating experiences of all their basic preparation for adult life. The young native can clearly see that his life will depend on the skills he is learning and that after the walkabout his survival and his place in the community will depend upon them, too. What meaning and relevance such a goal must give to learning! What a contrast if he were preparing to write a test on survival techniques in the outback or the history of aboriginal weaponry. The native's Western counterpart looks forward to such abstractions as subjects and tests sucked dry of the richness of experience, in the end having little to do directly with anything critical or even significant that he anticipates being involved in as an adult -- except the pursuit of more formal education. And yet, is it not clear that what will matter to him and to his community -- is not his test-writing ability or even what he knows about, but what he feels, what he stands for, what he can do and will do, and what he is becoming as a person? And if the clear performative goal of the walkabout makes learning more significant, think of the effect it must have on the attitude and performance of the young person's parents and instructors, knowing that their skill and devotion will also be put to the ultimate test when the boy goes out on his own. What an effect such accountability could have on our concept of schooling and on parents' involvement in it! 

For another moment, imagine these same two children reaching the ceremonies which culminate their basic preparation and celebrate their successful passage from childhood to adulthood, from school student to work and responsible community membership. When the aborigine returns, his readiness and worth have been clearly demonstrated to hand to his tribe. They need him. He is their hope for the future. It is a moment worth celebrating. What, I wonder, would an alien humanoid conclude about adulthood in our society if he had to make -- his deductions from a graduation ceremony announcing students' maturity: speeches, a parade of candidates -- with readings from their yearbook descriptions -- a formal dinner, expensive clothes and cars, graduates over here, adults over there, all-night parties, occasional drunkenness and sexual experience or flirtation with it, and spray painting "Grad '74". on a bridge or building. For many it is a memorable occasion -- a pageant for parents, a good time for the students. But what is the message in this celebration at this most important moment of school life and in this most important shared community experience? What values does it promote? What is it saying about 12 years of school experience? The achievement of what goals is being celebrated? What is it teaching about adulthood? How is it contributing to a sense of community? What pleasures and sources of challenge and fulfillment does it encourage the young to pursue? And if our alien humanoid could look into the students' deepest thoughts, what would he conclude about heir sense of readiness to live full and independent lives, to direct their own growth, to contribute to society, and to deal with the issues that confront us as a world -- perhaps a universe -citizenry? I think his unprejudiced conclusions would horrify us. 

In my opinion, the walkabout could be a very useful model to guide us in redesigning our own rites of passage. It provides a powerful focus during raining, a challenging demonstration of necessary competence, a profound maturing experience, and an enrichment of community life. By comparison, preparation and trial in our society are incomplete, abstract, and impersonal; and graduation is little more than a party celebrating the end of school. I am not concluding that our students should be sent into the desert, the wilderness, or the Arctic for six months -- even though military service, Outward Bound, and such organizations as the Boy Scouts do feature wilderness living and survival training. What is appropriate for a primitive subsistence society is not likely appropriate for one as complex and technically sophisticated as ours. But the walkabout is a useful analogy, a way of making the familiar strange so we can examine our practices with fresh eyes. And it raises the question I find fascinating: What would an appropriate and challenging walk-about for students in our society be like? Let me restate the problem more specifically. What sensibilities, knowledge, attitudes, and competencies are necessary for a full and productive adult life? What kinds of experience will have the power to focus our children's energy on achieving these goals? And what kind of performance will demonstrate to the student, the school, and the community that the goals have been achieved? 

The walkabout model suggests that our solution to this problem must measure up to a number of criteria. First of all, it should be experiential and the experience should be real rather than simulated; not knowledge about aerodynamics and aircraft, not passing the link-trainer test, but the experience of solo flight in which the mastery of relevant abstract knowledge and skills is manifest in the performance. Second, it should be a challenge which extends the capacities of the student as fully as possible, urging him to consider every limitation he perceives in himself as a barrier to be broken through; not a goal which is easily accessible, such as playing an instrument he already plays competently, but a risky goal which calls for a major extension of his talent, such as earning a chair in the junior symphony or a gig at a reputable discotheque. Third, it should be a challenge the student chooses for himself. As Margaret Mead has often pointed out in "Growing Up in Samoa", for instance the major challenge for young people in our society is making decisions. In primitive societies there are few choices; in technological societies like ours there is a bewildering array of alternatives in life-style, work, politics, possessions, recreation, dress, relationships, environment, and so on. Success in our lives depends on the ability to make appropriate choices. Yet, in most schools, students make few decisions of any importance and receive no training in decision making or in the implementation and reassessment cycle which constitutes the basic growth pattern. Too often, graduation cuts them loose to muddle through for themselves. In this walkabout model, teachers and parents may help, but in the Rogerian style -- by facilitating the student's decision making, not by making the decisions for him. The test of the walkabout, and of life, is not what he can do under a teacher's direction, but what the teacher has enabled him to decide and to do on his own. 

In addition, the trial should be an important learning experience in itself. It should involve not only the demonstration of the student's knowledge, skill, and achievement, but also a significant confrontation with himself: his awareness, his adaptability to situations, his competence, and his nature as a person. Finally, the trial and ceremony should be appropriate, appropriate not as a test schooling which has gone before, but as a transition from school learning to the life which will follow afterwards. And the completion of the walkabout should bring together parents, teachers, friends, others to share the moment with him, to confirm his achievement, and to consolidate the spirit community in which he is a member. Keeping these features of the walkabout analogy in mind, let now ask the question, What might a graduation ceremony in this mode be like in a North American high school? 

The time is September. The place, a classroom somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. Margaret, a student who has just finished grade 12 is making a multimedia presentation to a number of relatives, over 20 of her classmates, several friends from other schools, some teachers, the mayor, and two reporters she worked with during the year. Watching intently are a number of younger students already thinking about their own walkabouts. Margaret has been thinking about this moment since grade 8 and working on her activities seriously since the night the principal met with all the grade 10 students and their parents to outline and discuss the challenges. Afterwards she and her mother sat up talking about her plans until early morning. She is beginning with the first category, Adventure, which involves a challenge to her daring and endurance. The film and slides Margaret is showing trace her trip through the Rockies following the path of Lewis and Clark in their exploration of the Northwest. Her own journal and maps are on display along with a number of objects -- arrowheads and the like -- which she found enroute. The names of her five companions -- she is required to cooperate with a team in at least one, but no more than two of the five categories -- are on display. In one corner of the room she has arranged a set of bedroom furniture -- a loft-desk-library module, a rocking chair, and a coffee-table treasure-chest -- designed, built, and decorated as her work in the Creative Aesthetic field. On the walls are photographs and charts showing pollution rates of local industries which she recorded during the summer and used in a report to the Community Council. The three newspaper articles about the resulting campaign against pollution-law violators, and her part in it, are also displayed to give proof that she has completed the third category, Community Service. 

Margaret, like many of the other engaged in a Logical Inquiry which related closely to her practical work. Her question was, What structural design and composition has the best ratios of strength, ease of construction, and economy of materials? Using charts of the various designs and ratios, she describes her research and the simple experiment she developed to test her findings, and she demonstrates the effectiveness of the preferred design by performing pressure tests on several models built from the same material. After answering a few questions from a builder in the crowd, she shows how the problem grew out of her studies in architecture for the Practical Vocational category. Passing her sketch books around and several summer-cabin designs she drew up, she goes on to describe her visits to a number of architects for assistance, then unveils a model of the summer camp she designed for her family and helped them build on their Pacific Coast property. Slides of the cabin under construction complete her presentation. A teacher asks why she is not performing any of the skill's she developed, as the challenge requires, and she answers that her committee waived that requirement because the activities she chose all occurred in the field. 

As Margaret's friends and relatives gather around to congratulate her, down the hall Ken is beginning his presentation with a report on his two-month Adventure alone in a remote village in France where he took a laboring job and lived with a French family in which no one spoke English. The idea arose during a discussion of his proposal to travel when the teacher on his committee asked him to think of a more daring challenge than sight-seeing in a foreign country. A professor in modern languages has been invited by the school to attend the presentations, converse with him in French, and comment on his mastery. Later, with his own guitar accompaniment, Ken will sing a medley of three folk songs which he has composed himself. Then, to meet the requirements of the Community Service category, he plans to report on the summer-care program which he initiated and ran, without pay, for preschool children in the community. The director of the local Child Health and Welfare Service will comment upon the program. Finally, Ken will turn to the car engine which stands, partially disassembled, on a bench at the back of the room. His Logical Inquiry into the problem, "What ways can the power output of an engine be most economically increased?" is summarized in a brief paper to be handed out and illustrated with modifications he has made on the display engine with the help of a local mechanic and a shop teacher. He will conclude his presentation by reassembling the engine as quickly as he can. 

If we entered any room anywhere in the school, similar presentations would be under way; students displaying all kinds of alternatives they selected to meet the five basic challenges: 

Adventure: a challenge to the student's daring, endurance, and skill in an unfamiliar environment. 

Creativity: a challenge to explore, cultivate, and express his own imagination in some aesthetically pleasing form. 

Service: a challenge to identify a human need for assistance and provide it; to express caring without expectation of reward. 

Practical Skill: a challenge to explore a utilitarian activity, to learn the knowledge and skills necessary to work in that field, and to produce something of use. 

Logical Inquiry: a challenge to explore one's curiosity, to formulate a question or problem of personal importance, and to pursue an answer or solution systematically and, wherever appropriate, by investigation. 

We would learn about such Adventures as a two-week solo on the high river living off the land, parachute drops, rock climbing expeditions, mapping underground eaves, an exchange with a Russian student, kayaking a grade three river to the ocean, scuba-diving exploits, sailing ventures, solo airplane and glider flights, ski-touring across glaciers, a month-long expedition on the Pacific Crest trail, and some forms of self-exploratory, meditative, or spiritual adventures. We would see such Aesthetic works as fashion shows of the students' own creations, sculpture and painting, jewelry, tooled leather purses, anthologies of poetry, a humor magazine, plays written and directed by the author, a one-man mime show, political cartoons, a Japanese garden featuring a number of home-cultivated bonsai trees, rugs made of home-dyed fibers, illuminated manuscripts, gourmet foods, computer art, a rock-group and a string quartet, a car-body design and paint job, original films, a stand-up comic's art, tapes of natural-sound music, and a display of blown glass creatures. In the Service category students would be reporting on volunteer work with the old, ill, infirm, and retarded; a series of closed-circuit television hookups enabling children immobilized in the hospital to communicate with each other, a sports program for the handicapped, a Young Brother program for the retarded, local Nader's Raiders kinds of studies and reports, construction of playgrounds, hiking trails and landscaped parks, cleanups of eyesore lots, surveys of community needs and opinions, collecting abandoned cars to sell as scrap in order to support deprived families abroad, shopping and other trips for shut-ins, and a hot-meals-on-wheels program for pensioners. 

In the Practical realm we might see demonstrations of finely honed secretarial skills, ocean-floor plant studies, inventions and new designs of many kinds, the products of new small businesses, a conservation program to save a locally endangered species, stock market trend analyses and estimates, boats designed and built for sale, a course taught by computer assisted instruction, small farms or sections of farms developed and managed, a travel guidebook for high school students, a six-inch telescope with hand ground lenses and a display of photographs taken through it, a repair service for gas furnaces and other home appliances, and a collection of movie reviews written for the local suburban newspaper. 

And we would hear about Logical Inquiries into such questions as, How does a starfish bring about the regeneration of a lost arm? What does one experience when meditating that he doesn't experience just sitting with his eyes closed? What is the most effective technique in teaching a dog obedience? How do you navigate in space? Does faith-healing work, and if so, how? How many anomalies, such as the ancient Babylonian battery, are there in our history and how can they be explained? What folk and native arts and crafts have developed in this area? What are the 10 most important questions man asks but can't answer? What is insanity -- where is the line that separates it from sanity? and, What natural means can I use to protect my crops most effectively from disease and insects? All day long such presentations occur throughout the school, each student with his own place and time, each demonstrating his unique accomplishment, each with an opportunity to be successful in his own way. 

At the end of the day the families, their children, and their friends meet to celebrate this moment. The celebration takes a variety of forms: picnics, dinner at a restaurant, meals at home -- some cooked by the graduating students -- and buffets which all guests help to provide. In some instances two or three families join together. The ceremonies are equally varied, according to taste and imagination; some are religious, some raucous, some quite quietly together. In each the student is the center of the occasion. Parents and guests respond to the graduate's presentation. Teachers drop by to add their comments. And the student talks about his plans for the future. Some may find ways to announce the young person's entry into a new stage of independence and responsibility, helping him to clarify and pursue his next life goal. To conclude, there may be a school or community celebration to which all are invited for music, singing, and dancing. The only formal event would be a presentation of bound volumes of the student's reports on their accomplishments to the principal and mayor for the school and the community libraries. My own preference would be to include, also, some ritual experience of the family being together at the moment of its coming apart, or some shared experience of life's mystery; perhaps a midnight walk or coming together to watch the dawn -- the world beginning again, beginning still. 

Preparation for the walkabout challenge can be provided in various degrees of intensity, depending upon how committed the school staff is to creating a curriculum which focuses upon personal development: 

» It can be an extracurricular activity in which all planning and work is done during out-of-school time. 

» It can be one element of the curriculum which is included in the schedule like a course, giving students time for planning, consultation, and training. 

» It can be the core of the grade 12 program, one in which all teaching and activity is devoted to preparing for trial. 

» It can be the goal around which a whole new curriculum is designed for the school, or for a school-within-the-school staffed by interested teachers for interested students. 

If the school is junior secondary -- this concept can readily be adapted to elementary schooling, too -- students and parents should be notified of the graduation trial upon entry in grade 8, perhaps by a single announcement with an accompanying descriptive brochure. Trial committees -- including the student, the parents, and a teacher -- should be organized for meetings, likely as early as grade 9, to guide the student's explorations of possible challenges, so that serious planning and the preparation of formal proposals can begin in grade 10. To make the nature of the walkabout vivid, the committee should involve students in a series of "Experience Weeks" during which they would be out of school pursuing activities, first of the school's design and later of their own design, as trial runs. During these early years the student could also benefit from association with "big brothers" in the school, older students in more advanced stages of preparation who can help their younger colleagues, with considerable benefits for themselves as well. The committee would also be responsible for helping the student make his own choices and find the resources and training necessary to accomplish them; and by their interest, they would also help the student to develop confidence in his decisions and commitment to his own goals. A survey of student plans during any of the senior years would give the staff the information necessary to plan the most useful possible training, which could be offered in mini courses -- one day each week, for instance -- or in a semester or a year long curriculum devoted to preparation for trial. If students were required to write a two-page report on each challenge, a collection of these reports could provide an accumulating resource for younger candidates as well as a permanent "hall of accomplishment" for graduates. In such ways the walkabout challenge could also become a real focus for training in such basic skills as speaking, writing, and use of the media. These are only a few of the ways this proposal can be implemented and integrated with other aspects of school life. 

I am interested in the Walkabout challenge because it promises what I most want for my own children. No one can give life meaning for them, but there are a number of ways we can help them to give life meaning for themselves. Central to that meaning is their sense of who they are in the scheme of things and their confidence that, no matter what the future holds, they can decide and act, that they can develop skills to be justifiably proud of, that they can cross the most barren outback with, a certain grace and find even in simple moments a profound joy. I hope that by exploring what they can do and feel they will come to know themselves better, and with that knowledge that they will move through today with contentment and will look forward to tomorrow with anticipation. I think a challenging walkabout designed for our time and place can contribute to that kind of growth.

Siddhartha

 Those among you who have read a number of my posts to this blog will have recognized I am of an essentially Daoist mindset, though I only started reading up on Daoism and ultimately 'identified' as such many years after having reached a similar philosophical viewpoint through my own ponderings (a very small part of which were described in the previous post 'The Size of Freedom'). I am very aware of the notion of confirmation bias, otherwise known as selective exposure theory, so I am cautious to ascribe intent to other authors but I do discern elements common to Daoist thought beautifully illustrated in the following text.

 An extract from Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, 1922 and translated by Hilda Rosner, 1954. Published by the Penguin Group under the Penguin (Modern) Classics imprint.
ISBN 978-0-141-18957-4

Spoiler Alert!
If you think you may read the book in its entirety, (which I highly recommend and it's only just over 100 pages anyway) maybe don't read this post, as it is a 'climax' of sorts for the narrative. Otherwise, read on …

 (In the concluding chapter, Siddhartha speaks with his one-time companion Govinda.)

 When it was time for Govinda to depart the following morning, he said with some hesitation: ‘Before I go on my way, Siddhartha, I should like to ask you one more question. Have you a doctrine, belief or knowledge which you uphold, which helps you to live and do right?’

 Siddhartha said: ‘You know, my friend, that even as a young man, when we lived with the ascetics in the forest, I came to distrust doctrines and teachers and to turn my back on them. I am still of the same turn of mind, although I have, since that time, had many teachers. A beautiful courtesan was my teacher for a long time, and a rich merchant and a dice player. On one occasion, one of the Buddha’s wandering monks was my teacher. He halted in his pilgrimage to sit beside me when I fell asleep in the forest. I also learned something from him and I am grateful to him, very grateful. But most of all, I have learned from this river and from my predecessor, Vasudeva. He was a simple man; he was not a thinker, but he realized the essential as well as Gotama. He was a holy man, a saint.’

 Govinda said: ‘It seems to me, Siddhartha, that you still like to jest a little. I believe you and know that you have not followed any teacher, but have you not yourself, if not a doctrine, certain thoughts? Have you not discovered a certain knowledge yourself that has helped you to live? It would give me great pleasure if you would tell me something about this.’

 Siddhartha said: ‘Yes, I have had thoughts and knowledge here and there. Sometimes, for an hour or for a day, I have become aware of knowledge, just as one feels life in one’s heart. I have had many thoughts, but it would be difficult for me to tell you about them. But this is one thought that has impressed me, Govinda. Wisdom is not communicable. The wisdom which a wise man tries to communicate always sounds foolish.’

 ‘Are you jesting?’ asked Govinda.

 ‘No, I am telling you what I have discovered. Knowledge can be communicated, but not wisdom. One can find it, be fortified by it, do wonders through it, but one cannot communicate and teach it. I suspected this when I was still a youth and it was this that drove me away from my teachers. There is one thought I have had, Govinda, which you will again think is a jest or folly: that is, in every truth the opposite is equally true. For example, a truth can only be expressed and enveloped in words if it is one-sided. Everything that is thought and expressed in words is one-sided, only half the truth; it all lacks totality, completeness, unity. When the Illustrious Buddha taught about the world, he had to divide it into Sansara and Nirvana, into illusion and truth, into suffering and salvation. One cannot do otherwise, there is no other method for those who teach. But the world itself, being in and around us, is never one-sided. Never is a man or a deed wholly Sansara or wholly Nirvana; never is a man wholly a saint or a sinner. This only seems so because we suffer the illusion that time is something real. Time is not real Govinda. I have realized this repeatedly. And if time is not real, then the dividing line that seems to lie between this world and eternity, between suffering and bliss, between good and evil, is also an illusion.’

 ‘How is that?’ asked Govinda, puzzled.

 ‘Listen, my friend! I am a sinner and you are a sinner, but some day the sinner will be Brahma again, will some day attain Nirvana, will some day become a Buddha. Now this “some day” is illusion; it is only a comparison. The sinner is not on the way to a Buddha-like state; he is not evolving, although our thinking cannot conceive things otherwise. No, the potential Buddha already exists in the sinner; his future is already there. The potential hidden Buddha must be recognized in him, in you, in everybody. The world, Govinda, is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a long path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment; every sin already carries grace within it, all small children are potential old men, all sucklings have death within them, all dying people – eternal life. It is not possible for one person to see how far another is on the way; the Buddha exists in the robber and dice player; the robber exists in the Brahmin. During deep meditation it is possible to dispel time, to see simultaneously all the past, present and future, and then everything is good, everything is perfect, everything is Brahman. Therefore, it seems to me that everything that exists is good – death as well as life, sin as well as holiness, wisdom as well as folly. Everything is necessary, everything needs only my agreement, my assent, my loving understanding; then all is well with me and nothing can harm me. I learned through my body and soul that it was necessary for me to sin, that I needed lust, that I had to strive for property and experience nausea and the depths of despair in order to learn not to resist them, in order to learn to love the world, and no longer compare it with some kind of desired imaginary world, some imaginary vision of perfection, but to leave it as it is, to love it and be glad to belong to it. These, Govinda, are some of the thoughts that are in my mind.’

 Siddhartha bent down, lifted a stone from the ground and held it in his hand.

 ‘This,’ he said, handling it, ‘is a stone, and within a certain length of time it will perhaps be soil and from the soil it will become plant, animal or man. Previously I should have said: This stone is just a stone; it has no value, it belongs to the world of Maya, but perhaps because within the cycle of change it can also become man and spirit, it is also of importance. That is what I should have thought. But now I think: This stone is stone; it is also animal, God and Buddha. I do not respect and love it because it was one thing and will become something else, but because it has already long been everything and always is everything. I love it just because it is a stone, because today and now it appears to me a stone. I see value and meaning in each one of its fine markings and cavities, in the yellow, in the grey, in the hardness and the sound of it when I knock it, in the dryness or dampness of its surface. There are stones that feel like oil or soap, that look like leaves or sand, and each one is different and worships Om in its own way; each one is Brahman. At the same time it is very much stone, oily or soapy, and that is just what pleases me and seems wonderful and worthy of worship. But I will say no more about it. Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish. And yet it also pleases me and seems right that what is of value and wisdom to one man seems nonsense to another.’

 Govinda had listened in silence.

 ‘Why did you tell me about the stone?’ he asked hesitatingly after a pause.

 ‘I did so unintentionally. But perhaps it illustrates that I just love the stone and the river and all these things that we see and from which we can learn. I can love a stone, Govinda, and a tree or a piece of bark. These are things and one can love things. But one cannot love words. Therefore teachings are of no use to me; they have no hardness, no softness, no colours, no corners, no smell, no taste – they have nothing but words. Perhaps that is what prevents you from finding peace, perhaps there are too many words, for even salvation and virtue, Sansara and Nirvana are only words, Govinda. Nirvana is not a thing; there is only the word Nirvana.’

 Govinda said ‘Nirvana is not only a word, my friend; it is a thought.’

 Siddhartha continued; ‘It may be a thought, but I must confess, my friend, that I do not differentiate very much between thoughts and words. Quite frankly, I do not attach great importance to thoughts either. I attach more importance to things. For example, there was a man at this ferry who was my predecessor and teacher. He was a holy man who for many years believed only in the river and nothing else. He noticed that the river’s voice spoke to him. He learned from it; it educated and taught him. The river seemed like a god to him and for many years he did not know that every wind, every cloud, every bird, every beetle is equally divine and knows and can teach just as well as the esteemed river. But when this holy man went off into the woods, he knew everything; he knew more than you and I, without teachers, without books, just because he believed in the river.’

 Govinda said: ‘But what you call thing, is it something real, something intrinsic? Is it not only the illusion of Maya, only image and appearance? Your stone, your tree, are they real?’

 ‘This also does not trouble me much,’ said Siddhartha. ‘If they are illusion, then I also am illusion, and so they are always of the same nature as myself. It is that which makes them so lovable and venerable. That is why I can love them. And here is a doctrine at which you will laugh. It seems to me, Govinda, that love is the most important thing in the world. It may be important to great thinkers to examine the world, to explain and despise it. But I think it is only important to love the world, not to despise it, not for us to hate each other, but to be able to regard the world and ourselves and all beings with love, admiration and respect.’

 ‘I understand that,’ said Govinda, ‘but that is just what the Illustrious One called illusion. He preached benevolence, forbearance, sympathy, patience – but not love. He forbade us to bind ourselves to earthly love.’

 ‘I know that,’ said Siddhartha, smiling radiantly, ‘I know that, Govinda, and here we find ourselves within the maze of meanings, within the conflict of words, for I will not deny that my words about love are in apparent contradiction to the teachings of Gotama. That is just why I distrust words so much, for I know that this contradiction is an illusion. I know that I am at one with Gotama. How, indeed, could he not know love, he who has recognized all humanity’s vanity and transitoriness, yet loves humanity so much that he has devoted a long life solely to help and teach people? Also with this great teacher, the thing to me is of greater importance than the words; his deeds and life are more important to me than his opinions. Not in speech or thought do I regard him as a great man, but in his deeds and life.’

The two old men were silent for a long time. Then as Govinda was preparing to go, he said: ‘I thank you, Siddhartha, for telling me something of your thoughts. Some of them are strange thoughts. I cannot grasp them all immediately. However, I thank you, and I wish you many peaceful days.’

 (Shortly hereafter, with Govinda having experienced a vision and a revelation, the novel concludes.)

 I think the notion of a 'favourite book' is questionable on numerous counts, but Siddhartha is certainly a book I find myself returning to with delight and frequently recommending to, or purchasing for, others. If you ignored my Spoiler Alert at the top of this post and have now read just this extract, I still suggest you promptly go and buy your own copy to read in full.

The Size of Freedom

 It's been almost two years since I posted to this blog and, as yet, I perhaps still feel I have little, if any, new compulsion or inspiration to write. However I suddenly realised I was missing a golden opportunity to do either of two worthwhile alternatives ... Post old scribblings of my own and/or post some more (as I did with Walden some time back) by other authors.

So this following piece is something I started back in 2014 but never completed and all these years later I am hesitant to attempt to recover my original thread of thought, so I'm posting it as I found it, unfinished and dangling with perhaps just a suggestion of promise? I hope you enjoy it.

I shall now also look for some extracts from works by other writers ... Perhaps starting with Hermann Hesse ...

1987

The only sounds are the gentle sighing of the breeze through the nearby casuarinas and the occasional distant call of a magpie. As I have done on many occasions over the past two years, I am sitting on Leura’s Olympian Rock, looking directly across the Jamison Valley toward Korowal (Mt Solitary) and beyond. The sun has passed its zenith in the cloudless blue vault of an autumn Australian sky, causing a slow increase of shadow which gradually reveals the contours of the vista stretched out before me. The sheer and striated sandstone escarpments of Kedumba and Narrow Neck frame the view to left and right, but from this vantage the view to the south seems almost limitless – the vastness of such as the Wild Dog Mountains and Lake Burragorang reduced to little more than foreground detail as the successive ridges and valleys of the Great Dividing Range challenge my eyes to discern their detail, which slowly dissolves into the haze of distance. I convince myself that I can identify the particular silhouette of Mt Gibraltar, ‘The Gib’, in Mittagong some 75 kilometres distant and home to my elderly parents, but perhaps that is just a fancy born of a desire to discern something familiar in this wild expanse?

 

As the warmth of the sun seeps into my bones, the solitude and serenity of my situation allows my mind to calm, de-clutter, wander and, eventually, begin to consider the infinite. What has brought me to this point in time and space – given me the privilege and freedom to sit idly here in this apparent paradise with just my thoughts to occupy me? I’m sufficiently aware to recognize that my quarter century of existence on this planet has been most notable for my extreme good fortune. The fourth child of middle-class English parents, my family immigrated to Australia with the benefit of the ‘Assisted Passage Scheme’ and have resided within proximity of Sydney ever since. I have always been well clothed and fed and enjoyed a safe and loving home environment. I received a good education and never suffered more than the normal run of minor ailments that beset most children. The pangs of young love combined with my uncertainties about sexuality (at a time when heterosexuality was essentially the only widely understood and legal option) provided me with the expected moments of anguish, frustration and self-doubt but I knew enough to be discreet and was never overtly persecuted for my orientation. I am bright, capable and enjoy a curious and creative disposition. And, despite having worked in numerous roles across various fields of endeavor since leaving school at fifteen, I sit here as a recipient of fortnightly Social Security Benefit payments that supplement the meager income I derive from some part-time youth work in the local community.

 

By most common measures mine truly has been, unlike Albert Facey’s, a fortunate life. And yet. And yet …

 

2014

Yet I, like so many others, across all ages, genders, nationalities, social and economic strata, found myself questioning: Why? What? How? When? Even who? Though, is that last simply a manifestation of our species’ over-riding tendency to anthropomorphise everything? So many faiths and cultures seem compelled to inculcate in their constituents the notion of human supremacy. The seeming need to find strength and justification in the frankly alarming suggestion that humanity sits apart from and higher than the rest of the universe we inhabit, in all its incomprehensible diversity and complexity. Are we, as is often proposed, driven mostly by fear of ‘the other’? The other nation. The other race. The other gender. The other faith. The other culture. The other community. Or is it actually even simpler than that? Is it just a fear of insignificance? A fear of being small? Inconsequential.

 

I think that it might be just that. Do we ask ‘What is the meaning of life?’ not from a sense of truly seeking enlightenment so much as from a need to justify our own existence. Are we actually asking ‘Why am I here?’ Is it little more than an egotistical assertion that we each must, of necessity, have some higher purpose? And do we interpret the semantics of ‘higher purpose’ too literally, suggesting that a higher purpose requires also a position of elevation, of superiority? If so, then perhaps the reason we feel compelled to ask such questions is the disjunct we intuit between our culturally acquired sense of authority and entitlement and our frequent feelings of desire, uncertainty or helplessness.

 

Sitting in front of that magnificent and truly vast expanse of earthly wonders back in 1987, the singular notion that slowly rose in my thoughts to eventual dominance and clarity was the concept of relative scale, and all that a true comprehension of scale can imply. Bill Buxton, Principal Researcher at Microsoft, speaks of the importance of seeing fine levels of ‘granularity’ to gain understanding. He proposes the notion of exploring ‘orders of magnitude’ to aid clarity and comprehension. These are mental exercises that evoke in a more practical and helpful fashion the oft heard taunt to the woebegone ‘Get a little perspective!’

 

What happens when we do indeed step back from our subjective immersion in our daily travails? What I discovered, once I let the irksome minutia of quotidian concerns fall from dominance in my mind, was a true understanding of exactly how significant I was within the totality of universal existence.

 

Not at all.

 

And for me, that was extremely liberating. It conferred a new and persistent freedom to my thoughts, actions, being. Why was that?

 

Within the context of infinite time and limitless space we are all of us less than a speck of insignificance. But that’s perhaps a little extreme? Perhaps such a viewpoint invites accusations of a nihilist or fatalist position of negation of care or responsibility? And that surely is not freedom? So let’s explore instead a continuum of personal importance that stretches between a position of ‘It’s all about me’ to one of total individual irrelevance. At what scale, what level of magnitude, do we find our level of greatest comfort? The ‘picture’ of our world within the frame of which we can feel both sufficiently important to gain self worth, yet sufficiently ‘one among many’ to feel the freedom to express ourselves without undue constraint, condemnation or fear? Clearly it will be a different location on the continuum for every one of us with many external and internal influences – real and imagined; cultural and socio-economic; religious and familial. The tendency for someone of my upbringing, within a culture rampantly extolling the righteous virtues of the supremacy of the individual, would inherently be further toward a position of personal dominance than for someone reared within an Australian indigenous populace wherein the philosophy of ‘what’s mine is yours’ has true meaning. Additionally, there are many who will justifiably feel that the ability to perceive themselves outside of the pressing concerns of immediate circumstance are a luxury simply not available within their daily grind of ‘hand to mouth’ survival. They are compelled to place the day to day, minute by minute needs of their own, or their family’s, food, warmth and shelter first and foremost. Viewing their life from the next order of magnitude is simply not an option they feel able to invest even the luxury of aspiration toward.

Note: Incomplete though it is, I feel there may still be some points of interest for the curious reader to consider and just perhaps you might like to compose a conclusion of your own for this piece?