Monday, July 4, 2011

"Metaphor Mind" a short essay

Greetings Students of Life!—

 

Here is the next section from the part of my essay “Strategies for the Game” on creativity. After this, I look briefly at madness and its relationship to creativity, and then look at how to establish a creative space. Here I introduce what I talk of at length in another essay: the part of the mind that makes metaphors to understand the world. Here I establish its centrality to creativity. Later I will explore elaborate personal myths and rituals which use this capacity.

 

Take care, caretakers!

 

Daniel Christopher June

 

 

4. Metaphor Mind

 

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            Genius is a high capacity for analogy. Metaphor alone, and the metaphor mind, mark distinct the higher intellect. We all have a metaphorical mind which gets a sense of the form of things, and matches like to like. The sciences and arts are both inspired by metaphors, one testing them with experiments, the other with aesthetic effect. William James identified Plato and Shakespeare as the ultimate synthesis of the poetic and the scientific analogical approaches.

            We ought to transform all instances of experience into the one form of our personal project in life. The serious writer should make an academic study of, say, the symphonies of Beethoven or Tchaikovsky. Each poem is many poems; all language can be broken into rhythm charts, vowel patterns, clause lengths, topic variation, and such other such things. Studying pure music complicates a writing style.

            Necessity creates the basic shape of what we need. What better saying is there than “Necessity is the Mother of Invention”? Genius is the father. We invent the concepts we need. And to study any and every philosopher, merely identify his terms and ask what personal crisis led him to that particular formulation. We assume ideas from personal experience, shape them into mental furniture, adorn the mansion of our thinking habits with them, equip each moment with its own tool box, a set of concepts to address every object and situation.

            A thing is more meaningful, important, and significant the more it expresses certain clichés, stereotypes, regularities, combined with their own self overcoming: these comprise the basic myths. Wrap the mirror back on itself. A concept can be stretched in two directions: to its extreme reach, and back on itself.

            The writer is akin to every artist, and every man, in that the stuff of his art can structurally parallel or complicate what it refers to. A sentences is a structural unit of logical relationships. Likewise, all of reality breaks into units of identity. Every being contains parts which are also beings, down the to the infinite energy of the smallest part, which makes everything else possible, which makes possible even the mind of consciousness. The perfect writer knows how to make the form of the sentence imitate the form of his whole, to trouble the logic of his clauses with the structure of their interrelationship. We establish a few forms and strategies as the mental toolbox. Some men are square structured and practical, other are unstable and flowing.

            Form is compulsion. The mere structure of a form, once internalized, demands profligation. Beautiful forms demand expression; having consciously internalized a form, we need speak it, repeat it. We internalize all sorts of forms, and combine them into concepts. The entire universe can be viewed as an arrangement of energies taking on different forms, and our own emotions as energies awaiting the correct expressible form.

            What we say the most, what we do the most, becomes a typeset for all other things. The everyday common things are not denied or judged by the exceptional moments, but shed off those few exceptional moments like a skin to hold the normal and unexceptional in place. How do you structure your experience, and what new experience will improve this?

            We can’t help but express the forms we internalize, but we can alter and master the forms we comprehend. Understanding is the ability to put something in your own words. Comprehension is the ability to abbreviate and summarize. “Every man’s condition is a solution in hieroglyphic to those inquiries he would put.” To be able to summarize our lives into stories, parables, and cautionary tales lets us educate our future self, lets us educate our friends and family.

            To contemplate a form is to hold the shape of that form even when it is gone, is to fold the sphere of consciousness into its contours, so the mind is that form. When we are accustomed to it, we take the grasp of it as normal. For instance, a cutter working all day with diamonds handles his other problems as if they were little bits of gem. The surgeon puts the scalpel even to his marital problems. The hunter patiently awaits his opportunity to shoot.

            Trauma implants form. Significant experiences redefine all other experiences, like food color working through dough. A molested child seldom has only one assault. Having experienced the sexual situation, she becomes more vulnerable to it happening again, even in an unrelated instance. Every experience both puts a twist on the previous ones, sculpting our memories, and changes the lenses by which we take in new experiences.

            A thing is not itself until it becomes something else. An experience is not useful until it has been transfigured into a concept. When a story becomes a parable, it approaches becoming a universal idea. When we take a form out of a thing, that form becomes language, a stamp we may imprint up on the clay of all things. The pessimist lives in a different world than the optimist. Neither world is right or correct, both serve needs, both must be respected.

            Forms reproduce themselves through system. The center of the system holds the allform, the DNA, the informer and conformer. The language of the Constitution of the United States, the Declaration of Independence, “the Gettysburg address,” the Federalist Papers, are at the center of the American mind, work throughout our system, conform the full stature of the States to one Nation. They are a sort of DNA to our Republic. A worldview is a language. The language of importance is the tone and terms we adopt when addressing The Importance. Scripts, routines, and rituals implant these forms into the minds of youth. That is all they are for. Every worldview is a lifestyle. It is important that we all conform to a few shared values, but also seek our own personal values as well. The former is necessary for the group self, the latter necessary to the personal self: two layers of many within the full self of me in the universe.

            Some forms get smoothed over with such desire that the information they contain no longer fascinates. It no longer snags the mind, it is easy. The mind uses the form unthinkingly, which is handy and good. Many of us don’t question our religion, the nature of Civil Law, the fitness of marriage, the structure of our furniture, or any other everyday taken-for-granted object. For to ponder all things always is to stun our ability to decide. The world is strange, confusing, bizarre, imposing, but we don’t know it, because we take it as normal. The hard edges of wire have been covered over with smooth clay. Nevertheless, wisdom is the ability to see the ordinary in the extraordinary, and the extraordinary in the ordinary. By taking in foreign forms – perhaps reading the Tao Te Jing or the Koran, or looking at a Zen garden, or whatever else is distant from you – you break apart the everyday forms. Our daily language, our clichés and every day sayings, are deeply rich when deeply understood. But sometimes we need to take the tools of a foreign tool box to break them apart, to see the metaphors buried within them, to liberate the energy in each form which holds it together, just as food energizes us only when we chew it to pieces. We can decongest everyday life when we no longer take the normal as unworthy of study.

            Ideas are so many lenses and mirrors, reflecting the light of experience into consciousness. It is as if all deep concepts were glass, transparent in themselves, but bending reality into a special focus. The name of a thing is a powerful lens. An essay, a symphony, a person, is almost defined by the title, name-nickname, or reputation that has congealed around its head like a halo. Our attitude about a man determines what facial expressions and stances will appear before our mind when we hear his name.

            Transposing forms reveals hidden essences. Metaphors, titles, nicknames, and jokes reveal the hidden pith of a soul, the tone and tenure of the soul’s blood. Every man is transfigured, every man has his moment. I am most fully Daniel in a few instances, when the layers of politeness and conformity peal away like unnecessary garments, and my divinity stands nude.

            What gives a form identity? What makes it itself? How is my inner self structured, so that I am ultimately me? For if all reality is made of matter, and matter is eternal, then form is the ultimate reality. Forms change – is this not an objection against eternity? Yet we have a sense of the wholes and parts, and the idea of a whole may be its entire reality. If a car is repaired part by part, at what point is the car no longer the original? Perhaps the mere idea of that car is projected onto it. For an idea is an energy made large through brain structures. Merely the idea that a thing is itself, that the mind is the same mind throughout our lifetime, even if you suffer brain injury, maybe even if you die, is all the eternity you need. Not God, but Mind, offers the promise of eternal life.

            For most people, forms and structures are known and usable, but only unconsciously. We can do a lot because we absorb the forms of our environment at the job we figure out how to talk, what to do, we absorb what is expected of us and take the role of worker readily. Most people learn quickly, take the forms and subtle cues from their environment. The philosopher plays the game differently. He gives the forms names, shapes them into concepts, makes them consciously thinkable, verbally speakable. The philosopher alone can say what he knows, though the others are neither able to nor need to. But the philosopher also has the powers to invent new forms, to analyze the old, to extract the gold from any ore, for his conceptual tools let him play a more subtle game. He knows best that each private life, no matter how normal and everyday, is a goldmine of ideas. Life is fractal. My full book also resides in each sentence, each paragraph, which are like veins and arteries to carry the blood of my soul, and like blood, all things are mixed together, for as blood moves oxygen, nutrients, antibodies, hormones, and wastes, all to their correct place, so my style – I call it the allistic style – conveys all things at the same time in the same place. The genre is language, but then all art is language. Grammar codifies beings, becomings, and logical relationships: the noun, the verb, the preposition. So much of language is mere framing, mere set up, for the one or two moments of true intimacy. Perhaps a whole drama is mere set up and alibi for the true moment. Perhaps that true moment isn’t known, but felt deep down.

            The job of learning, of knowing, of realizing forms, is the scholar’s payment in this life. Suffering is superficial. Life is about growing in power and love, is about mastering forms. The way to play the Game is to be able to hold metaphors as handles on reality. Each mood is like a room in the mental mansion. Each room has its own furniture, its own tools. Some concepts work like microscopes, getting at subtle, small, intricate facts; other tools work as telescopes, getting at the remote.

            Mastering verbal form is like mastering music. Beethoven’s symphonies often transition by radical leaps between disparate keys, with a small but perfect phrase which knows how to bring you there. In writing, you can gracefully get from an X to any Y, with the ingenuity of a transition. Consider the structure of the whole against the microstructure of the parts. The microscopic structure of style can hold the clue to transferring ideas. In the same way, life is made up of what we think of all day. To be able to focus intently on each part requires a metaphorical grasp of what we are looking at, to segment it off as This Fully Now. We must learn how to revere intent focus.

            To have a sacred, personal or public, you must know how to adore. To be able to set a given thing as personally sacred for you, utterly important, an image of Importance, is the ability to become a priest and bestow blessings. No religion is necessary, but merely taking the conceptual tool which religion worked out for centuries of setting a thing apart. Your language will protect it. Know how to revere, protect, hide, and glorify a thing. If writing is your blessing on the world, love it, honor it, never denigrate it. If dancing is it, or whatever else, then do the same.

            As the incarnation of Allism, as the representative of it, in accordance with Ama, the face of Mother All, I seek especially to put my roots down in the nation of my birth, not to recommend that all men love America, but that they love their own birthplace, glorify the details of their own becoming, to celebrate most what they are, without denying the glory of the planet and the whole universe as well. The music of the spheres is in loving a thing for what it is, loving myself as myself, my family as my family, my city as my city, my nation as my nation, mankind as mankind, life as life, the universe as universe, honor to the honorable, love to the lovely, respect to the respectable.

            And so I internalize American forms, sinking the roots of my World Tree deep beneath the soil of my very feet, drinking in the forms which the ancient ideas assume passing through our minds, reading Emerson daily, studying Whitman in the outdoors every season, analyzing William James, figuring out the music of Charles Ives, admiring and emulating the structuralism of the architecture of Wright, and balancing them all against the foreign ideas of Nietzsche, the Gospel of Thomas, the Tao Te Jing, the Norse Eddas.

            There are many layers of form in every meaning, as if each concept were a geological column in which different fossilized critters had solidified in the layers of rock. Except they are alive, and vital, and merely await identification to add life to what I use them for.

            All of life is creative, and the creative life is the liveliest of all. To ever create, to make your own birthday cards, your own birthday cakes; to study law, imposing new systems and tables over it; to sing in the morning, dance at noon, the meditate at night; to beautify all you touch, to recreate all forms and experiences into your own; to copyright the universe; this is the life of glory, the divine life, the life of an incarnated god.

 

~~

Perfection

Is

Easy

 

perfectidius.com

~~

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Saturday, July 2, 2011

"Metamethod part 2" a short section of an essay

This short section wraps up my ideas on having a METAMETHOD, or a method for making the methods of life. I look a little at the methods I’ve used lately. The next section will be about the metaphor mind.

Take care, Caretakers!

 

Daniel Christopher June

====================================

 

 

 

 

3. Metamethod (part 2)

 

Michelangelo - Rebellious Slave.JPG

            When the eyes stare at the same object too long, the physical eyes as well as the mental, they grows accustomed to it, and take that object as a norm. The experience of an object is the mind in the shape of it, so the more it grows familiar with an object – say, the object of the work place, or the marriage, or the personal dispute, or some sport, or a friend, or a mood – the more that object becomes the norm and standard. Decorate cakes all day, and for the first few weeks on the job, you get flashes in your imagination of mistakes you’ve made, even when you’re at home mowing your lawn, or in bed reading Whitman, or taking a shower. It is as if the version of me as decorator were a sculpture, a living sculpture I put on at work, and slowly I hammer its gross shape, and then chisel away the fine detail, with my mind slowly internalizing all the nuances of the job as quickly as possible, and yet letting my perfectionism have full swing, doing everything in the best form I can, inventing proper form for myself, and working finer and finer at exactitude. Now that I am home, when I blink, I see cakes. When I return to my real being as writer, there is still frosting on my fingers. New to the job, I must stress over the criticisms and complaints of my boss and coworkers; only when I have fully internalized them and know how to match, appease, or flaunt expectations will I have mastered them.

            For wisdom, stupidity is as necessary as intelligence. To go slowly, to make every step conscious, is to put the new habit into the hands of the clumsy but ambitious mind. Only if you are humble enough to be stupid can you become wise enough to be proud. Train yourself to look at a thing. The basis of study skills, of intelligence, is in mastering the eyes, to teach them not to blink – I mean this literally as well as figuratively – to keep your eye on the ball, even though the shock of contact would make you wince. Knowing how to keep your eyes focused, to look the problem with level interest, to peer into the soul of form, is the secret of intelligence: the mind follows the eyes.

            When you meditate in front of the mirror, note how your eyes move in response to ideas. The mind learns focus from the play of the eyes.

 

~~

Perfection

Is

Easy

 

perfectidius.com

~~

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Thursday, June 30, 2011

"Afterlife" a short essay

This is a little essay I wrote regarding the nature of the afterlife. Thought I think everybody will disagree with my vision, nevertheless, the structure of it describes pretty well what I mean by “Allistic Logic,” so it doesn’t require your agreement for you to get what I’m driving at. I hope you like it! We will be back to the long essay “Strategies for the Game” soon!

 

Take care, Caretakers!

 

Daniel Christopher June

=======================================

 

 

AFTERLIFE

 

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Prophesy

 

Burn the witch

And while you watch

You’ll breathe her back in

She will come again

Within your children.

 

 

Mortal

Men love life, though all will die

So I love you, though you will leave.

My heart did harden, and daily aches with your word.

“Divorce” you say, and I believe you.

And so I love you as something I don’t own

Kiss you as something I can’t hold

Adore you as something I can’t keep.

This is the wisdom of being mortal.

 

 

 

Draw Near

 

Oh my lovers, Draw near, Press a kiss,

Your love is …always so dear.

You were ever Such children

Its stories you’d hear

 

Today we all grow older—

You keep whispering mysteries

Its time you grew bolder.

 

My stories are simple

If you first know the gimmick

Observe the beginning

There’s a logic in it.

 

The rest its unfolding

Like this spreading hand

Where is that beginning?

Right there at the end!

 

This one is young

As the day I met her

That one grew younger

She’s glad that I let her

 

Oh my lovers,

There is yet still time,

Still time for new stories.

History finally begins, with this rhyme.

monarch.jpg

 

                One birth is sufficient for all men, one life sufficient for man, woman, child, and even the unfortunate stillborn. Outside of time we chose our stage, and in this stage we set ourselves up to carve our divinity. One life, and in the next we are the beauty we committed in this life. Upon death, each man faces the promise of what his religion taught him, for he enters a dream. The Buddhist imagines countless samsaras, the Christian imagines judgment, and heaven or hell, the pagan imagines Valhalla or Elysian fields of apotheosis, the atheist imagines dissolving into pure universal matter, and yet in each of these dreams, consciousness remains, changed, but ever present, for the mind is made of matter, and matter is eternal. What you by faith and fury imagine the afterlife to be, your mind will make for you, and those who feel the same way, and believe the same way, share your fate with you.

                Us Allists do not stop in any one heaven or hell for long, but walk across all of them, cause a little mischief, we break all borders, we will be masters of all heavens and all hells. But in the very end, we each long to be a Universe and a God in ourselves. We seek to draw near the ones we have loved, or the parts of the ones we have loved that they permit us, they give us parts of their soul, or if we have earned such an honor, we may fuse innermost in utter intimacy with a lover. We are able to turn inwards and become Everything. A rare honor. For those who believe otherwise, they will never achieve it, and the will of freedom becomes forever cut from the center of necessity. This is their place and purchase. This is their way and triumph. We do not argue with them nor tempt them, but we let each man choose his ultimate fate, as he sets himself up to choose such things before he was born, where he stood outside of time in his own private universe, as an ultimate undifferentiated freedomnecessity. Under no circumstances pity a man, nor envy a man,  but if you wish intimacy, then you must love him in compassion and be willing to share his joys, suffer his sorrows, and give kindness, which is the art of improving each other, not merely the art of giving.

                All religions and beliefs are true in the imagination, and after we leave the senses, we are immersed in that imagination, an imaginary we may share with those we love. None can come to us but through shared affinity. In this life, enemies approach, but in the next life, only lovers draw near. Therefore, we will each be our own reward. That which we choose to become in this life will draw close to us in the next.

                Ultimately, no man can be disappointed with eternity, yet some must work out their salvation through the hells they created. This life and this life alone defines how much of a god we may be. This life and this life alone determines how much soul we will have. There is no other time to become divine, but every little choice, every joy, and every pain you experience in this life, build for you “treasures in heaven” which is your very heart you are building, and the kingdom of heaven is none other than the loving community you are able to earn through creative power and intimate affection. A god is powerful and loving, yet most people in the next life will be worshippers of gods, and forever so, though scarcely gods themselves, for they cannot shine like the sun, nor the moon, nor the stars; they compromised too much in this life. They will be happy yes, but they will be less happy and less great in their happiness than those who made themselves great in this life. Mortality is the ultimate playing field, for here we make our choices. There is less risk in the afterlife, but without the risk there is no chance of gaining such great rewards. Because we are less vulnerable in heaven, we have less to gain.

                Seek with me to be utterly divine, and do not make excuses for any imperfection. Ultimately, you are your own reward, and if you would be loved, you must be lovely, if you would be honored, you must be honorable, if you would be friends of God you must be a God. There is no short cut nor any free gift that can save you from this. You must be utterly true to your own infinite potential if you are to become infinite. And this you can do, wherever you are, starting now.

* *

                There is the moment of apotheosis in all our lives, when we may become a god or become a mortal -- before that we are not quite either -- when, in the mythosphere, Ama descends as a Monarch Butterfly and lays a jade egg upon our forehead. I myself, the Idius, this very book you are reading, am within the mythosphere the many winged butterfly whose words are living rivers of gold, though to you they are leaden and difficult. Your mythic self reads them and is ravished, your mundane self struggles a bit. That moment is the blossom which summons Psyche, who was once human too, and has moved on to become the mask of the All. Nor does she give birth to your god self, but lays an egg empty of a soul: it is our decision that determines if you become a god or mortal. If you do not put your godself into the egg, emit a bit of necessity mingled with freedom (need and mind), then you may consign yourself to any other myth, and be doomed to mere happiness, being unable to aspire higher. At that moment our name is spoken into our god form. Lacking that, the worm is nevertheless born, and is the bite of time, so that slowly your body and soul will be swallowed, and you will finally join the dissolvment called “Nirvana bliss” -- thought this may take eons to effectuate.

                In the mythosphere, the Christians are not baptized in water, but in blood, and are owned by their god. They are resurrected in the mythosphere as one perfect bride for the one they love, and enjoy their fate. That is heaven to them. They do go on to a collective individualistic heaven first, serving and being good and happy and all that. The Mormons go on to be the sort of gods that resemble the one they quote so often, and populate different planets, the polygamous among them with greater glory, the rest with less. The Greeks are still mumbling in Hades, or are happy in the Elysian fields. For what we believe becomes true in the dream of death.

                The Hindus do reincarnate, but only in the mythic sphere -- Mundania is far too scientific and lawful for these imaginative flights! And as for atheists, they dissolve into nature, and become the abiding spirits in the weather, the soil, and the ubiquitous organisms. Since nobody deserves misery longer than to educate and perfect him, so nobody gets it; we each get what we deserve, and knowing that we deserve it and why, we would only agree and accept it.

                All these final realities are on earth, are in the atoms of earth; and when the earth moves on, we move on with it. Not that any man can escape his fate, except for Allists, who are like Hermes or Wotan, able to set boundaries and therefore, privileged in the ability to transgress them. We are the only beings, other than Ama, who can transverse final realities, upon the wings of the full grow caterpillar, monarch wings, we alone have no limit on our final resting place, for we must master them all if we are to aspire to be greater-than-Gods, but become each a full Universe. This is why we wear the mark of Cain on our brow, or the mark of repression, so that we are a secret, and not known, and are seen to be normal and regular wherever we go, and are never seen for what we are.

                I the book, the Idius, sooth to be chiseled by these hands, and purr like a kitten in your palms the reader. My monarch form is akin to the form we all take in our symbolic place, as Psyche apotheosis. Omniscience learns; perfections grows. Perfection is not flawless. Nothing living is flawless, for what is flawless cannot grow. The true god is not only immortal, but also mortal. As  you read me, you partake of ultimate reality.

               

               

88

 

~~

Perfection

Is

Easy

 

perfectidius.com

~~

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Tuesday, June 28, 2011

"The Metamethod" an essay

This short  section of my essay is about the central power in creativity, the Metamethod, which is the method of making methods. Having developed this Metamethod, which could also be called “style” or “personality,” we can create any number of strategies for life. This and the subsequent method explore what a Metamethod is.

Take Care, Caretakers!

 

Daniel Christopher June

 

=========================================

 

 

 

2. The Metamethod

 

 

            The greatest method is the metamethod, the method by which we make methods. Everything in the world can be done well, better perhaps than you can do it now. You must know how to look at it, how to study its nature, how to experiment with possibilities and figure out an optimum.  We must know how to invent a new method for every occasion, and also how to steal any and all methods we wish, for aside from the conviction of lawyers there is no such thing as "copyright."

            Techniques require centuries to learn. That I write this way or that required thousands of writers to purify these methods, which I absorb readily from every facet of the diamond of language. Philosophical methods, sciences, arts, are not invented all at once by the artist, but only stylistically tweaked by this artist or that. I use all the methods known to man to publish myself, yet there is nothing in my language, in any of it, that only I can write. It is all me, and only me, and yet what I am is not the language, the way the magnet is not the iron fillings that fall in place through its field. I choose these words, but I could have chosen others. My spirit animates all of them, lives forever in them, and yet is more than them, and will ever speak anew.

            Make projects of your life. Make them spontaneous, novel, find for each a new method. The soul ever publishes new needs in the form of some energy itching to get out. When the time is ripe, do what you will. Never read a genre piece. Never read the author who writes twenty books the same. Each work must answer a burning question within the writer’s heart. Each new essay should have a unique method, a personal trope, a lynch pin unlike all the others, as do the poems of the Tao te Jing which each cluster around a unique trope, placed with grace like a dimple in the infant's smile. The womb of creation is sacred.

            Make your method of methods, make it intuitional. Calculation needs only appear if it errs. I need see no programming language if I wrote my program right. Otherwise I am flooded with code. Quote no rules when I am walking perfectly.

            The structuring ideas inform a work and conform its patterns, but they lack any quotable reality in themselves. An encyclopedia of theory can go into a poem which would be otherwise impossible, yet the theory is angelic, heavenly, and therefore nonexistent, pure fiction, something above and beyond anything real and important. Each man is his own star, and follows the fate of his innermost inevitability. Life's frustrations are inevitable; the best of us persist.

 

 

~~

Perfection

Is

Easy

 

perfectidius.com

~~

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Sunday, June 26, 2011

"The American Scholar" an audiobook

 

 

 

I have decided to make a view audiobooks of Emerson’s lectures and books for the sake of Librivox.org; its volunteer, and so you can get the same material free off my webpage. Here is the link. So far, I have recorded “The American Scholar” in which Emerson declares America’s intellectual independence. Put it on your ipod, check it out!

 

ralph-waldo-emerson.jpg

 

http://perfectidius.com/americanscholar.mp3

 

Take care, Caretakers!

 

Daniel Christopher June

~~

Perfection

Is

Easy

 

perfectidius.com

~~

tweetpic

 

Saturday, June 25, 2011

"Creative Methodism" an essay

Daniel Christopher Junes to the Students of Life: Greetings!

I realized that I was saturating you with sections from my essay “Strategies for the Game,” – so I’ve taken a break from sending it. In fact, we are half done, so I will pick up where I left off. The “Strategies” section of the essay are based on the 8 virtues I’ve singled out: Independence, Creativity, Practicality, Order, Honesty, Optimism, Commitment, and Study. Well we just finished the independence section where I talked of the sanctity of the ego, and the need to keep ourselves hidden, even if we have to be dishonest. This part about creativity begins with a short section regarding creativity as a method, which I will explore more in subsequent sections. Life is good by the way – I’m happy!

 

Take care, Caretakers!

==============================

 

1.      Creative Methodism

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            Life is played as a game in order to secure intellectual aloofness. We play, but it is not real. We can always not care. We can always withdraw our concern. Death cannot intimidate us when we find a use even for death. Aside from the innermost sanctuary of the soul, and as a direct correlate of it, the supreme virtue of virtues, the basis of all life and especially human life, is creativity. We create our body, we create our experience of the world, and at the spiritual level, we create art. To take creativity as primal, as the first consideration in how we act, this leads to the spontaneous and disciplined life of Methodism.

            There are countless methods for doing all things, methods for teeth brushing, making love, playing the guitar. Some are better than others, and some are better for me while others are better for you. The best mix is to unite your personal instincts and self-established method with a bit of sympathetic tradition which resonates to you. Not only do you join a chosen tradition, but you interpret yourself into it, and it into you.

            Life is chaos. The inner needs demand, and swell with energy like seminal vesicles filled with semen, like the sun publishing his glory forever. Creativity constantly taps the innermost shine, flows it outwards into the body and mind. Creativity is growth. To regard all things in life as challenges in need of new creative solutions, to build, make, sing, dance, write, and improve in all things, is the high spiritual truth of the West, the glory of the West, the true glory of every religion and philosophy. What great thing can a philosophy or religion say without admitting that those things, the very religion itself, had first to be created? All hail the creators!

            Ama blesses the overly sensitive. They experience the world as chaos, and the chaos of overstimulation is the greatest incentive to create an order where previously it was lacking. Milton’s Satan, exploring Chaos, finally makes peace with its Rulers, with a Covenant that he will expends their power into all order; and he makes good his promise, and also does not, mastering even Chaos. Or to turn the mystery hidden in the belly of another epic, consider Dante's vision, in which the furthermost is heaven and the centermost is hell, and at her center, the triple heads of the Satanic beast, devouring the committers of the gravest sin, which is the betrayal of the beloved, Judas and Brutus among them, and at the center of that belly, the one and only portal into the deeper than hell, the higher than heaven, the fully other, the unthinkable absolute, the state of being that has no speakable form (god could overhear it if we spoke), but which Blake had a glimpse of when he went on his delicious vacations into hell, and sensed its secret, which Odin was to discover in the belly of the Fenris Wolf, which all sense in the dread infant's conspiracy, which must remain unknowable until it is too late, finally divined by the fool God, of whom Paul said "God's folly is greater than man's wisdom," not knowing that man's folly is greater than both God's folly and also God’s wisdom, a truth teased when Folly spoke some actual utterances through the pen of Erasmus, in his Encomium, who thought he was jesting and didn't know what he taught – like a charlatan leading a séance, made to say through what he thought were deceptions the very truth the seeker sought—so listen well!

            Ultimately, we set up filters for our sensitivity. Unconscious ideas, those engines of thought, move ideas which deserve focused treatment into consciousness, and filter the rest. Once in consciousness, we imagine false causes as their source. They are invisible gravities which swerve our ideas so that the ideas appear autonomous. We see the immediate cause and not the deeper cause.

            Self-reflection reveals the beauty of coincidence. The layers of being sing like the music of the spheres. When we seek this thing, it happens to appear, for providence is the profundity we feel when we unconsciously know how to use a random event. Fate hides in chance. Nor can any random fall of the tarot cards escape a deep and meaningful interpretation to the mind who knows how to stitch a yarn.

            The ego contains the most stereotyped habits. We call those habits the "Me." What we always do is near at hand, like the pen in the writer's pocket, like the insult in the mouth of the jerk. A man is his daily thought; how he thinks of his world defines that world.

 

 

~~

Perfection

Is

Easy

 

www.msu.edu/~junedan

~~

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Monday, June 20, 2011

"Sacrament" a poem

 

butterflybig.jpg

 

Sacrament

 

The monarch psyche

alighted on my brow

The same place as I kiss you now

Inspiring muse she's Ama sent

The Great comes now for the Spirit went

If this drink I pour is sweet and limpid

Psyche's Nectar has made you deathless.

Fiery wings consume the dove

Graceful tips devour Jove

She fans the typhoon with subtle arch

Encircles the earth with easy stretch

You flutter, dance, skip, then glide

I Eros take my pace beside

And vaunt my charms as if to tease you

And sing you hymns of love to please you.

 

 

 

 

 

~~

Perfection

Is

Easy

 

www.msu.edu/~junedan

~~

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