Some soul searching days. As I hit 360 in this blog, a full circle of posts, I have to ask: is the project working? By this I mean not whether I can find encounters every day, the sheer succession of posts suggests I can (and if I can, anyone can), but whether a life of encounters is satisfying enough, whether I'm fully...what? If not, what's missing.
Perhaps I'm just a little stir-crazy. The snow doesn't keep me home but it does make parking problematic, and trudging through the woods a real challenge (no snow shoes, yet). Still, I'm antsy. Just writing this blog used to justify each day, but now it doesn't. I feel there's more in me that is ready to respond to encounter than I've accessed in the writing of this blog. Last night, I felt antsy. So many books, so much music, so many movies at my fingertips and I couldn't figure out which to dip into, what to do. So many puzzles to do and sketches to make, and I couldn't decide (with one exception) which to tackle. Did I want to sample and be stimulated or did I want immersion and to be engrossed?
All of this is apart from the God-in-love framework, which provides the broad context and a perspective. Rather, it's about the idea of a presence/adventure/lastingness way of life. Am I living it yet? Do I know where to go? I feel I need a plan, but even before that, some understanding.
What came to me this morning grew out of yesterday's blog on copying and emulating. Let's see if I can articulate it, even for myself. Perhaps the way to find the answer is to consider the issues of otherness and address.
When I study something deeply, trying to penetrate it, trying to assimilate it, the other is a model for me, whether person, book, story, work of art; the vector of address arrows from me to it: I chose to attend, to watch, to inquire, and then to honor it by reduplication or re-presentation. The constraint of the other imposes is its character or structure or special quiddity.
Moving on, there's a second kind of otherness, a situation or fact, that imposes a kind of strictness, eliciting response. We are addressed, a demand for acknowledgement enforced by its sheer urgency or undeniable presence: a, say, a journey or some kind of problem. The other is a unique set of givens to be navigated, so that a task is solved or accomplished.
Then I thought: what about those situations of mutuality, where one addresses an other. Here the dynamics of encounter are fluid, dependent on the sallies and replies of the parties. Here the constraints are the actions of the other in response to us, and so more or less strict.
So three kinds of Others: those I choose to honor with attention and emulation, others that require me to respond and perhaps solve, and those that invite me to interact in a hurly-burly of conversation. Not iron-clad categories, these may point me toward the idea of a mixed menu of encounters that will put me at rest.
The practices appropriate to each kind of encounter can also be hybrid, though the first seems generally more about friendship, the second, exploration, and the third, hospitality.
Does invention and design represent a fourth category? I'm inclined to think not, but rather to include invention in the first and design in the second. But, heck, all these distinctions are really only for helping me think how to make the encounter-stream of my life richer and more engaging.
What might this mean in terms of a 'diet?' In first category: more sketching, paraphrasing and precis-ing, score reading, etc. In the second, more visiting, more experimenting, etc. In the third, more meeting and engaging with people, perhaps especially strangers. Okay, I have a rough idea to work with. The goal is to be ever encountering Otherness. Let's see.
Perhaps I'm just a little stir-crazy. The snow doesn't keep me home but it does make parking problematic, and trudging through the woods a real challenge (no snow shoes, yet). Still, I'm antsy. Just writing this blog used to justify each day, but now it doesn't. I feel there's more in me that is ready to respond to encounter than I've accessed in the writing of this blog. Last night, I felt antsy. So many books, so much music, so many movies at my fingertips and I couldn't figure out which to dip into, what to do. So many puzzles to do and sketches to make, and I couldn't decide (with one exception) which to tackle. Did I want to sample and be stimulated or did I want immersion and to be engrossed?
All of this is apart from the God-in-love framework, which provides the broad context and a perspective. Rather, it's about the idea of a presence/adventure/lastingness way of life. Am I living it yet? Do I know where to go? I feel I need a plan, but even before that, some understanding.
What came to me this morning grew out of yesterday's blog on copying and emulating. Let's see if I can articulate it, even for myself. Perhaps the way to find the answer is to consider the issues of otherness and address.
When I study something deeply, trying to penetrate it, trying to assimilate it, the other is a model for me, whether person, book, story, work of art; the vector of address arrows from me to it: I chose to attend, to watch, to inquire, and then to honor it by reduplication or re-presentation. The constraint of the other imposes is its character or structure or special quiddity.
Moving on, there's a second kind of otherness, a situation or fact, that imposes a kind of strictness, eliciting response. We are addressed, a demand for acknowledgement enforced by its sheer urgency or undeniable presence: a, say, a journey or some kind of problem. The other is a unique set of givens to be navigated, so that a task is solved or accomplished.
Then I thought: what about those situations of mutuality, where one addresses an other. Here the dynamics of encounter are fluid, dependent on the sallies and replies of the parties. Here the constraints are the actions of the other in response to us, and so more or less strict.
So three kinds of Others: those I choose to honor with attention and emulation, others that require me to respond and perhaps solve, and those that invite me to interact in a hurly-burly of conversation. Not iron-clad categories, these may point me toward the idea of a mixed menu of encounters that will put me at rest.
The practices appropriate to each kind of encounter can also be hybrid, though the first seems generally more about friendship, the second, exploration, and the third, hospitality.
Does invention and design represent a fourth category? I'm inclined to think not, but rather to include invention in the first and design in the second. But, heck, all these distinctions are really only for helping me think how to make the encounter-stream of my life richer and more engaging.
What might this mean in terms of a 'diet?' In first category: more sketching, paraphrasing and precis-ing, score reading, etc. In the second, more visiting, more experimenting, etc. In the third, more meeting and engaging with people, perhaps especially strangers. Okay, I have a rough idea to work with. The goal is to be ever encountering Otherness. Let's see.
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ReplyDeleteWell, a winter such as this one does lend itself to being a period of soul searching. No way to get out, nowhere to go that isn't covered in snow and ice, the world turns monochrome and so do our thoughts. Perhaps we should just hibernate and allow ourselves to follow nature, withdraw and recoup, recharge, and get ready for Spring, when we will really need our energies to be at peak level. I've followed you posts for a while and am always in awe of how you find something to reflect on everyday, kudos to you. But, if you're doubting the framework of your writing, then maybe it's time to look further afield for inspiration? I think it's time to put your voice in the mouths of others, to work in the third person, or a first person narrative? I'm pushing for a work of fiction, a short story perhaps? An encapsulation of your ideas, theories and philosophies, a lens held up to a world that we haven't experienced before, take the leap of faith and paint us your picture of the world. In the abstract? Whatever, just break the mold!
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