Saturday, January 24, 2009
What is Love?
What is love? Is it a feeling? An emotion? Does it come in fits or does it fade in time? Love, I think, is none of these things. Love is knowing. Love is in fact the only thing one can ever really know. It is the one universal truth and the only thing there is. It doesn't require anything nor is it something that can be found. Love is everywhere and nowhere. It is all time and never. It penetrates space and time and exceeds all dimensions. Love is the universe. It is the lifeblood, the force, that flows through everything--without it, there is nothing. That is Love.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Pearls Before Breakfast
I just read an article called "Pearls Before Breakfast" where one of the world's most renowned musicians played some of the worlds most renowned musical pieces at a metro stop in DC dressed as an ordinary street musician.
Not surprisingly (to me at least) most people (over 1,000) walked by without so much as turning their heads or slowing their stride. I think part of it has to do with the fact that people are uncomfortable dealing with other people--we are all completely anonymous most of the time and have come to like it like that. Whether you are walking around campus or in this case, walking around the metro plaza in downtown DC, most people are completely alone despite being surrounded by thousands of other people. We as a culture have come to like that and have grown uncomfortable recognizing the fact that there are other people in this world (RIGHT NEXT TO US IN FACT!!!). So what do we do? We walk around and pretend no one else is there, and when we are confronted, whether directly by someone asking for money or to inform us of a cause, or indirectly like a musician playing an instrument or a person sitting next to us, when this happens we grow uncomfortable and try our hardest to pull ourselves back into our cocoon of isolation.
We have many tools at our disposal to remain disconnected from the world around us. Cell phones allow greater connection and interaction with others...right? Not when its used as a tool to isolate yourself from those in your immediate physical presence. And hell, if you've got an iPod with you you're golden, you'll never have to talk to anyone. Even if someone somehow strikes a conversation with you all you'll need to do is plug your earphones back in whenever you want out and PRESTO! you've got yourself out of that frightful jam!
Around campus here at the University of Maryland I find myself in these little social experiments all the time. I imagine we've all been walking down an empty hall with someone we don't know before. If you are coming from opposite ends (walking towards each other) most people will divert their eyes, look at their feet, pull out their cellphones, or fiddle with something in their pockets. I find that normally, I actually do look at my feet a good deal, but when I'm walking towards someone I'll dart my eyes around so as not to LOOK like I'm looking at the floor. When I feel I'm at the appropriate distance I'll glance into their eyes and say hello if they are looking, and just keep walking if they aren't. It's so terribly sad. But worst of all is when someone is walking in the same direction as you and you are side by side. In this situation you become dangerously close to actually having to talk to someone! Again, the cellphone is many peoples weapon of choice here, but also people will change their pace so that they can remove themselves from this potential contact as quickly as possible.
Personally, this would be the trap I'd be most likely to fall in if I had been at the metro station that day. I've before noticed street musicians that struck me as extraordinary. In fact, I'd heard a violinist in Paris that was certainly of a lesser caliber than the man in this article, but was enthralled by her music. I did not stop and listen or pay or anything, but tried as much as I hard as I could to listen and once I stepped onto the train started a conversation about how wonderful that was (with my friend...not a stranger, god no!). But I've been making a concerted effort to notice beauty in my life and it has not been easy. I read a different article, this one about survival skills actually, that mentioned that when facing near-death experiences our senses of perception are often radically altered. The article went on to say that when we are born, we are sponges absorbing all possible sensory input. As we grow older, as a matter of survival actually, we learn how to process this information and it becomes subconscious. Our brains function as filters (Huxley mentions this in Doors of Perception) that take all of the available information and only deliver what is considered vital or necessary for our conscious processing. This may be one of the reasons that time always seems to be going faster as we grow older. In addition to the fact that each successive year becomes a smaller and smaller proportion of our life (when you are 5, a year is a fifth of your life, when you are 50, it is one fiftieth) is this processing and suppression of sensory data. When you do the same thing every day, your brain is able to more efficiently reduce the amount of information that you need to deal with in order to survive. If you are working in a cubicle for twenty years, your brain undoubtedly gets pretty good at processing the information you need in this environment and you recieve only that minimal amount of information. So while individual working days may seem to drag on to eternity, years go by quickly and in a blur, everything is the same as everything else. Time in fact becomes marked by breaks in this continuum, such as a vacation to Cabo or a ski trip in British Columbia. So it is no surprise that the pedestrians at the metro stop the day that this artist came to play his violin did not stop to listen (and even appeared to deliberately ignore him), it is because their normal experience in the metro stop is so routine that they become numb to the experience.
So I think, these are the two major reasons for the ignoring of the master musician. If people did REALLY notice, we've all been so conditioned to remain isolated (even whilst amongst thousands of other people) that it is outside of the social norm to break that isolation, and most were unwilling to do that. And also, for the regular commuters, this break from routine might not have even really been noticed. Something like this may seem extraordinary-and it is- but many people grow comfortable with their set routines and live their lives within certain fixed parameters. Anything outside of this (any change that is) is unwelcome, even if it is something positive.
With all that said, I think there's plenty that can be done as an individual in order to break from this. Regarding the social isolation that I discussed, leaving the cocoon is easy (though it may be emotionally difficult, as sad as that may seem). All that is needed is a deliberate break from convention. Say hello to that person walking down the hall, even if they aren't looking at you. If you want to talk to someone, DO talk to them.
Freeing yourself from these social restrictions becomes easier if the latter issue of numbness and monotony is addressed as well. You must question the things that you do. For instance, if you always turn on the radio when you get in the car, just out of habit, ask yourself if you really want to listen to the radio. You might find that you do most of the time, in which case great, but sometimes you might find you'd prefer to think, or to listen to the wind or your rickety old car. Or when you walk to class you always call someone on your phone. Maybe this time don't call someone, maybe just walk, and when you are walking, don't do anything else, just walk! This may sound odd and obviously simple, but it isn't odd and it IS simple! Do what you are doing, when you are doing it. Live in the present. Be aware of what you are doing, the choices you are making. When you walk to class, maybe you'll notice a tree with leaves that glow with the sunlight from above them, or you'll see someone you know, or maybe you won't see or do anything, just walk. Would that be so bad?
Here's the article:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html
Not surprisingly (to me at least) most people (over 1,000) walked by without so much as turning their heads or slowing their stride. I think part of it has to do with the fact that people are uncomfortable dealing with other people--we are all completely anonymous most of the time and have come to like it like that. Whether you are walking around campus or in this case, walking around the metro plaza in downtown DC, most people are completely alone despite being surrounded by thousands of other people. We as a culture have come to like that and have grown uncomfortable recognizing the fact that there are other people in this world (RIGHT NEXT TO US IN FACT!!!). So what do we do? We walk around and pretend no one else is there, and when we are confronted, whether directly by someone asking for money or to inform us of a cause, or indirectly like a musician playing an instrument or a person sitting next to us, when this happens we grow uncomfortable and try our hardest to pull ourselves back into our cocoon of isolation.
We have many tools at our disposal to remain disconnected from the world around us. Cell phones allow greater connection and interaction with others...right? Not when its used as a tool to isolate yourself from those in your immediate physical presence. And hell, if you've got an iPod with you you're golden, you'll never have to talk to anyone. Even if someone somehow strikes a conversation with you all you'll need to do is plug your earphones back in whenever you want out and PRESTO! you've got yourself out of that frightful jam!
Around campus here at the University of Maryland I find myself in these little social experiments all the time. I imagine we've all been walking down an empty hall with someone we don't know before. If you are coming from opposite ends (walking towards each other) most people will divert their eyes, look at their feet, pull out their cellphones, or fiddle with something in their pockets. I find that normally, I actually do look at my feet a good deal, but when I'm walking towards someone I'll dart my eyes around so as not to LOOK like I'm looking at the floor. When I feel I'm at the appropriate distance I'll glance into their eyes and say hello if they are looking, and just keep walking if they aren't. It's so terribly sad. But worst of all is when someone is walking in the same direction as you and you are side by side. In this situation you become dangerously close to actually having to talk to someone! Again, the cellphone is many peoples weapon of choice here, but also people will change their pace so that they can remove themselves from this potential contact as quickly as possible.
Personally, this would be the trap I'd be most likely to fall in if I had been at the metro station that day. I've before noticed street musicians that struck me as extraordinary. In fact, I'd heard a violinist in Paris that was certainly of a lesser caliber than the man in this article, but was enthralled by her music. I did not stop and listen or pay or anything, but tried as much as I hard as I could to listen and once I stepped onto the train started a conversation about how wonderful that was (with my friend...not a stranger, god no!). But I've been making a concerted effort to notice beauty in my life and it has not been easy. I read a different article, this one about survival skills actually, that mentioned that when facing near-death experiences our senses of perception are often radically altered. The article went on to say that when we are born, we are sponges absorbing all possible sensory input. As we grow older, as a matter of survival actually, we learn how to process this information and it becomes subconscious. Our brains function as filters (Huxley mentions this in Doors of Perception) that take all of the available information and only deliver what is considered vital or necessary for our conscious processing. This may be one of the reasons that time always seems to be going faster as we grow older. In addition to the fact that each successive year becomes a smaller and smaller proportion of our life (when you are 5, a year is a fifth of your life, when you are 50, it is one fiftieth) is this processing and suppression of sensory data. When you do the same thing every day, your brain is able to more efficiently reduce the amount of information that you need to deal with in order to survive. If you are working in a cubicle for twenty years, your brain undoubtedly gets pretty good at processing the information you need in this environment and you recieve only that minimal amount of information. So while individual working days may seem to drag on to eternity, years go by quickly and in a blur, everything is the same as everything else. Time in fact becomes marked by breaks in this continuum, such as a vacation to Cabo or a ski trip in British Columbia. So it is no surprise that the pedestrians at the metro stop the day that this artist came to play his violin did not stop to listen (and even appeared to deliberately ignore him), it is because their normal experience in the metro stop is so routine that they become numb to the experience.
So I think, these are the two major reasons for the ignoring of the master musician. If people did REALLY notice, we've all been so conditioned to remain isolated (even whilst amongst thousands of other people) that it is outside of the social norm to break that isolation, and most were unwilling to do that. And also, for the regular commuters, this break from routine might not have even really been noticed. Something like this may seem extraordinary-and it is- but many people grow comfortable with their set routines and live their lives within certain fixed parameters. Anything outside of this (any change that is) is unwelcome, even if it is something positive.
With all that said, I think there's plenty that can be done as an individual in order to break from this. Regarding the social isolation that I discussed, leaving the cocoon is easy (though it may be emotionally difficult, as sad as that may seem). All that is needed is a deliberate break from convention. Say hello to that person walking down the hall, even if they aren't looking at you. If you want to talk to someone, DO talk to them.
Freeing yourself from these social restrictions becomes easier if the latter issue of numbness and monotony is addressed as well. You must question the things that you do. For instance, if you always turn on the radio when you get in the car, just out of habit, ask yourself if you really want to listen to the radio. You might find that you do most of the time, in which case great, but sometimes you might find you'd prefer to think, or to listen to the wind or your rickety old car. Or when you walk to class you always call someone on your phone. Maybe this time don't call someone, maybe just walk, and when you are walking, don't do anything else, just walk! This may sound odd and obviously simple, but it isn't odd and it IS simple! Do what you are doing, when you are doing it. Live in the present. Be aware of what you are doing, the choices you are making. When you walk to class, maybe you'll notice a tree with leaves that glow with the sunlight from above them, or you'll see someone you know, or maybe you won't see or do anything, just walk. Would that be so bad?
Here's the article:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html
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