Should the whole frame of earth by inward throes
Be wrenched, or fire come down from far to scorch
Her pleasant habitations, and dry up
Old Ocean, in his bed left singed and bare,
Yet would the Living Presence still subsist
Victorious, and composure would ensue,
And kindlings like the morning...
In other words, would there still be life on earth if it all burned up?
This passage from Wendell Berry's "A Continuos Harmony" was discussed in class lecture. I recall you asking the class what they though about this passage. Many people, including myself, were left without an answer to the passage's question. Having time to have had the chance to sit down and ponder this has helped me come up with what I think...
If the world burned up from the inside core, out, I do believe that signs of life would return to the planet. Someone in class made a rather valid point about how plants do rebirth and grow in a field that used to be a forrest but was torched in a massive fire. Along with this idea, I feel like life would return to Earth for spiritual reasons as well as scientific. If we take the time to view this situation abstractly it will become more and more obvious that "life" extends far beyond the throes of this planet alone. And by "life" I am not implying that there are other planets with people, or aliens walking around on them. I haven't the slightest idea if aliens exist and I don't necessarily want to know for sure, so understand that that is not what I am saying. What I am saying is that I believe that a spiritual, heavenly life exists beyond our planet. I am a firm believer that God is very real and has powers beyond measure. My point is, should He [God] decide to "start over," He very well has the power to do so. I don't believe it's up to humans to decide what is going to happen after we are all no longer here. How can we make that decision? If we're honest with ourselves, we all have no clue.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Tareva - Week 12
In class on Monday we discussed passages from Berry's book "A Continuous Harmony." I am a Wendell Berry fan, almost for the exact same reasons that I am a Gary Snyder fan. I enjoy when texts are so well written that readers feel rewarded by the opportunity to read those books. Berry's writings are an example of those books that evoke positive, smart emotions, that makes one think for themself. Berry's writing style forces readers to think outside of the box and look at aspects of life from a standpoint that would otherwise be ignored.
The discussion of Berry's text led our class into talking about Sigmund Freud. The idea was that Freud claimed that religion is a delusion. Freud believed that religion is something that humans created to give ourselves comfort in troubling times when we have no control over what is going on around us, or within us. Freud also made the claim that we provided the concept of God in an attempt to create a being of such power but with human characteristics (personified God/Christ). Freud believed that humans personified God so that we could feel like we had means of communicating with this higher power. Freud claimed that humans knew that the concept of God would connote sanctified, Holy notions, thus we needed means of being able to connect with something so powerful.
Within the parameters of the class discussion a classmate introduced the idea of "what does it matter?" to the Berry/Freud conversation. The student was asserting that it does not matter if things in life are delusions, fiction, the actual, or the truth. Her claim was that it does not matter if people's delusions are actually real because they claim the label of "real" once they become real to the person experiencing the delusion. There is some truth in this claim. The fact of the matter is, if a delusion has made itself real to the person experiencing it, then that "delusion" becomes reality to that person. Therefore, it shouldn't matter if everyone else thinks it a delusion, and only a delusion. Although there is some validity in this claim, I think it morally wrong to ignore the need for questioning reality. My feelings are that questioning delusions, reality, and the abstract are rooted in the nature of philosophy as a whole. To assert that things are the way they are and that's just it seems outrageous to the philosophy discipline. What would happen to the world if humans no longer desired to know if things are real or fake. We would not question anything! There would be no difference between fantasy and reality if we chose to no longer distinguish the two.
Berry encourages us all to be more conscious of our interactive relationship with nature.
The discussion of Berry's text led our class into talking about Sigmund Freud. The idea was that Freud claimed that religion is a delusion. Freud believed that religion is something that humans created to give ourselves comfort in troubling times when we have no control over what is going on around us, or within us. Freud also made the claim that we provided the concept of God in an attempt to create a being of such power but with human characteristics (personified God/Christ). Freud believed that humans personified God so that we could feel like we had means of communicating with this higher power. Freud claimed that humans knew that the concept of God would connote sanctified, Holy notions, thus we needed means of being able to connect with something so powerful.
Within the parameters of the class discussion a classmate introduced the idea of "what does it matter?" to the Berry/Freud conversation. The student was asserting that it does not matter if things in life are delusions, fiction, the actual, or the truth. Her claim was that it does not matter if people's delusions are actually real because they claim the label of "real" once they become real to the person experiencing the delusion. There is some truth in this claim. The fact of the matter is, if a delusion has made itself real to the person experiencing it, then that "delusion" becomes reality to that person. Therefore, it shouldn't matter if everyone else thinks it a delusion, and only a delusion. Although there is some validity in this claim, I think it morally wrong to ignore the need for questioning reality. My feelings are that questioning delusions, reality, and the abstract are rooted in the nature of philosophy as a whole. To assert that things are the way they are and that's just it seems outrageous to the philosophy discipline. What would happen to the world if humans no longer desired to know if things are real or fake. We would not question anything! There would be no difference between fantasy and reality if we chose to no longer distinguish the two.
Berry encourages us all to be more conscious of our interactive relationship with nature.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tareva - Week 11
As I mentioned before, it's rare that I experience a natural setting so I've decided to share the thoughts I wrote about my excursion to the Lion's Bridge:
Unfortunately, I had to miss the class field trip to the Lion’s Bridge. After reading the designated sections of the Annie Dillard text, a packed up my boyfriend and a lunch from Panera Bread and headed to the trail. To be quite honest I was petrified for having missed the field trip because I assumed I’d need direct instruction of how to communicate with nature and really hear what nature was telling me. I thought that I was going to need the “earthy” people in our class to play the middle man between myself and nature to help provoke the conversations. I was wrong.
It was a relatively nice day outside; not too chilly and definitely not hot. When we arrived at the bridge we were weak from starvation so we sat on the cool, stone steps facing the trees and the water and ate our goodies. We properly disposed of our trash and began to tramp around on the grass just below the steps where we sat to eat. I explained to my boyfriend, Jonothan, that we were to be communicating with nature while we explored the outdoors. I am still not sure if he grasped the concept of what we were doing but I definitely had my moments when I felt as if the wonders of nature were speaking directly to me.
Let us begin with the grass. I struggle with wrapping my head around communicating with something that does not also speak but I understand the importance of connecting with the natural world, so I slipped my shoes and socks off in order to grant my feet direct contact with the ground. I guess I figured nature’s thoughts would be absorbed by my bare soles. As funny as that may sound, it is almost exactly what occurred. I immediately began to communicate with the grass – by first yelling at it because of its slightly unfriendly prickle. Soon after ignoring the discomfort beneath my feet I began to concentrate on what the ground might be saying to me. I realized that the only way to know would be to examine the ground and focus on its every detail in hopes of receiving communication in return. I played with individual blades of the grass with my toes then bent down to feel it between my fingers. Pulling a few blades from the grass bed I smelled it, thought about tasting it but did not, threw it about, and watched it land back into the rest of its family. I even pulled out just enough blades to arrange into the letters that form my boyfriends name and made him take a picture with it. As I played in the grass, with the grass, I felt that individual blades were telling me different things. The bed of grass I was sitting on was crying out for relief, the blades of grass I was toying with my toes seemed to almost shiver as if to say they were ticklish, and the blades of grass that I uprooted and tossed about said words of appreciation for freeing them and giving them the opportunity to truly dance in the wind.
Walking further along, we trampled through high weeded areas, not necessarily cut out for gallivanting, and noticed lots of fallen twigs and branches. The condition of each stick communicated with us almost exactly how long its newest home had been the ground. Some of the twigs were rotting and showed clear signs of having been wet. Other sticks were bone dry and covered in dirt. Some of the branches, I recognized, had fallen from trees directly above their location on the ground. Besides being able to see the exact points on the trees where the branches had fallen from, or been torn from, I knew the branches used to be a part of those trees because it seemed like the trees were looking down upon the piles of twigs as if they missed their company.
We walked for quite some time, discovering things like rocks that were actually comfortable to sit on, and birds I’d never seen before. I thought that this assignment was going to be much harder seeing as how before this semester I would have thought it impossible to communicate with trees and such, but I did just as C.S. Lewis advised in The Four Loves and didn’t examine nature for its surface properties or beauty but, instead, I really made an attempt to hear what the trees, the grass, the rocks, etc. were saying to me. What came as a shock was that they actually have a lot to say! Collectively, all of the natural components of the Lion’s Bridge spoke to me by letting me know that I can go there whenever I’d like to relax, be completely comfortable, and have a chat. The landscape informed me that Jonothan and I are more than welcome to join them anytime.
Unfortunately, I had to miss the class field trip to the Lion’s Bridge. After reading the designated sections of the Annie Dillard text, a packed up my boyfriend and a lunch from Panera Bread and headed to the trail. To be quite honest I was petrified for having missed the field trip because I assumed I’d need direct instruction of how to communicate with nature and really hear what nature was telling me. I thought that I was going to need the “earthy” people in our class to play the middle man between myself and nature to help provoke the conversations. I was wrong.
It was a relatively nice day outside; not too chilly and definitely not hot. When we arrived at the bridge we were weak from starvation so we sat on the cool, stone steps facing the trees and the water and ate our goodies. We properly disposed of our trash and began to tramp around on the grass just below the steps where we sat to eat. I explained to my boyfriend, Jonothan, that we were to be communicating with nature while we explored the outdoors. I am still not sure if he grasped the concept of what we were doing but I definitely had my moments when I felt as if the wonders of nature were speaking directly to me.
Let us begin with the grass. I struggle with wrapping my head around communicating with something that does not also speak but I understand the importance of connecting with the natural world, so I slipped my shoes and socks off in order to grant my feet direct contact with the ground. I guess I figured nature’s thoughts would be absorbed by my bare soles. As funny as that may sound, it is almost exactly what occurred. I immediately began to communicate with the grass – by first yelling at it because of its slightly unfriendly prickle. Soon after ignoring the discomfort beneath my feet I began to concentrate on what the ground might be saying to me. I realized that the only way to know would be to examine the ground and focus on its every detail in hopes of receiving communication in return. I played with individual blades of the grass with my toes then bent down to feel it between my fingers. Pulling a few blades from the grass bed I smelled it, thought about tasting it but did not, threw it about, and watched it land back into the rest of its family. I even pulled out just enough blades to arrange into the letters that form my boyfriends name and made him take a picture with it. As I played in the grass, with the grass, I felt that individual blades were telling me different things. The bed of grass I was sitting on was crying out for relief, the blades of grass I was toying with my toes seemed to almost shiver as if to say they were ticklish, and the blades of grass that I uprooted and tossed about said words of appreciation for freeing them and giving them the opportunity to truly dance in the wind.
Walking further along, we trampled through high weeded areas, not necessarily cut out for gallivanting, and noticed lots of fallen twigs and branches. The condition of each stick communicated with us almost exactly how long its newest home had been the ground. Some of the twigs were rotting and showed clear signs of having been wet. Other sticks were bone dry and covered in dirt. Some of the branches, I recognized, had fallen from trees directly above their location on the ground. Besides being able to see the exact points on the trees where the branches had fallen from, or been torn from, I knew the branches used to be a part of those trees because it seemed like the trees were looking down upon the piles of twigs as if they missed their company.
We walked for quite some time, discovering things like rocks that were actually comfortable to sit on, and birds I’d never seen before. I thought that this assignment was going to be much harder seeing as how before this semester I would have thought it impossible to communicate with trees and such, but I did just as C.S. Lewis advised in The Four Loves and didn’t examine nature for its surface properties or beauty but, instead, I really made an attempt to hear what the trees, the grass, the rocks, etc. were saying to me. What came as a shock was that they actually have a lot to say! Collectively, all of the natural components of the Lion’s Bridge spoke to me by letting me know that I can go there whenever I’d like to relax, be completely comfortable, and have a chat. The landscape informed me that Jonothan and I are more than welcome to join them anytime.
Tareva - Week 10
We are supposed to blog about an experience we've had with a natural setting. Truth be told, I rarely take personal journeys through nature and the wilderness. Besides being a lover of the INdoors, I am deathly allergic to just about everything outside. I literally go into heavy sneezing fits everytime I step out of my apartment. So, trips through nature are rare for me. Don't get me wrong, I am indeed a lover of nature and the wonders of the wilderness, but my allergies prohibit me from participating in events that require me to venture through the woods.
In accordance with this blogs topic however, I have decided to share my experiences of climbing Old Rag Mountain. This is something that I haven't done for years but it is one of the few times I've encountered/explored a natural setting. When I was in middle school and high school my church youth group used to make annual trips to hike Old Rag. When it was first announced that climbing a mountain was to be our youth groups new annual trip I was NOT excited at all. Aside from my allergies playing a major role in me not wanting to participate, I enjoy being clean way too much to want to climb a mountain. Ever since I was little I was the girl who freaked out about bugs and dirt. I liked having my nails freshly painted and the scent of some kind of perfume usually wafted behind me like a cloud on a regular basis. Needless to say, climbing mountains was not something I ever saw myself doing - until I did it. The first time I climbed I had no idea what I was in for. I remember thinking, "I'm exhausted!" within the first hour of the climb. Not a good start. But low and behold, I made it to the top and was so happy that I did. We would take little breaks during our climb to just sit around and sing hymns or fellowship together. It was the Old Rag trips that I believe truly brought our youth group together. When we would summit the mountain we'd all share in communion and prayer. Being on top of a mountain and sharing in a ritual that is designated for us to remember what Christ has done for us was such a moving experience. I felt God's presence with us right there at the summit of Old Rag. I also believe that physically being closer to the heavens had a lot to do with how powerful the experiences were for me. It was almost as if I was that much closer to being able to literally reach out and touch the sky.
In accordance with this blogs topic however, I have decided to share my experiences of climbing Old Rag Mountain. This is something that I haven't done for years but it is one of the few times I've encountered/explored a natural setting. When I was in middle school and high school my church youth group used to make annual trips to hike Old Rag. When it was first announced that climbing a mountain was to be our youth groups new annual trip I was NOT excited at all. Aside from my allergies playing a major role in me not wanting to participate, I enjoy being clean way too much to want to climb a mountain. Ever since I was little I was the girl who freaked out about bugs and dirt. I liked having my nails freshly painted and the scent of some kind of perfume usually wafted behind me like a cloud on a regular basis. Needless to say, climbing mountains was not something I ever saw myself doing - until I did it. The first time I climbed I had no idea what I was in for. I remember thinking, "I'm exhausted!" within the first hour of the climb. Not a good start. But low and behold, I made it to the top and was so happy that I did. We would take little breaks during our climb to just sit around and sing hymns or fellowship together. It was the Old Rag trips that I believe truly brought our youth group together. When we would summit the mountain we'd all share in communion and prayer. Being on top of a mountain and sharing in a ritual that is designated for us to remember what Christ has done for us was such a moving experience. I felt God's presence with us right there at the summit of Old Rag. I also believe that physically being closer to the heavens had a lot to do with how powerful the experiences were for me. It was almost as if I was that much closer to being able to literally reach out and touch the sky.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Tareva - Week 9
Another outside reading that I'd like to blog about is a book called The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey. Again, another book that changed my way of thinking and my life in general. Yancey is a Christian journalist that decided to write this book to explore Jesus, as he is described in the Bible, without any preconceptions. Yancey's goal was to examine and define Jesus from a totally new perspective, divorced from the Jesus that society thinks they know so well. Yancey is quoted at stating, "No one who meets Jesus ever stays the same. Jesus has rocked my own preconceptions and has made me ask hard questions about why those of us who bear his name don't do a better job of following him."
The entire book is thrilling, new, fresh, and true. Yancey has a way of writing that reflects that simple nature in which he thinks about Jesus, the Gospel, and religious culture in general. I think that Yancey does an awesome job of offering his readers a new way of considering Jesus. I walked away from the reading feeling like Jesus is more real to me now. Yancey also managed to "break Jesus down" in a manner that makes Jesus seem human, just like us, instead of the way people tend to think of Jesus as this figure who is so much more great than we are so we'll never be able to relate to Him or communicate with Him appropriately.
Yancey includes a quote from Walter Wink that reads, "If Jesus had never lived, we would not have been able to invent him." When I read that part I felt like someone punched me in the chest. It was like, "HELLO!" that is so true! I believe that the power of God and Christ, and their genuine love for all things created stretches far beyond what humans can fathom. So, the idea here is that if we can't even really grasp all of God's power and might when He's made Himself known then there's no way we would have been able to even make Him up. People ask me all the time how I'm so sure in my faith and I usually say that there have been too many bad times in my life that worked out in the end for me to not believe that I'm being protected by a higher being. But after reading the passage concerning how humans would not even be able to invent God, I feel like I have a different answer to that question.
The entire book is thrilling, new, fresh, and true. Yancey has a way of writing that reflects that simple nature in which he thinks about Jesus, the Gospel, and religious culture in general. I think that Yancey does an awesome job of offering his readers a new way of considering Jesus. I walked away from the reading feeling like Jesus is more real to me now. Yancey also managed to "break Jesus down" in a manner that makes Jesus seem human, just like us, instead of the way people tend to think of Jesus as this figure who is so much more great than we are so we'll never be able to relate to Him or communicate with Him appropriately.
Yancey includes a quote from Walter Wink that reads, "If Jesus had never lived, we would not have been able to invent him." When I read that part I felt like someone punched me in the chest. It was like, "HELLO!" that is so true! I believe that the power of God and Christ, and their genuine love for all things created stretches far beyond what humans can fathom. So, the idea here is that if we can't even really grasp all of God's power and might when He's made Himself known then there's no way we would have been able to even make Him up. People ask me all the time how I'm so sure in my faith and I usually say that there have been too many bad times in my life that worked out in the end for me to not believe that I'm being protected by a higher being. But after reading the passage concerning how humans would not even be able to invent God, I feel like I have a different answer to that question.
Tareva - Week 8
I know that we are supposed to submit at least two blogs on books that we read that were not assigned as a part of the course material, so here goes...
A few days ago I finished reading a book called A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. The book is about a man, Denisovich, who is a prisoner of one of Stalin's forced work camps. Although the story is about Ivan Denisovich, it's written from what seems to be an onlookers perspective. The text is a culmination of writing that follows Denisovich's schedule and way of life through one day at the camp.
I've chosen to blog about this book because Denisovich was sentenced to ten years in the camp for "being a spy," when the truth is that he just got lost in the woods with a friend and once he came out of the woods they arrested him. The story is tragic and heart wrenching but I feel like it relates to what we've discussed in class in that Denisovich's cosmos was shattered. Just like the guy in the movie clip we viewed in class, his stay at the camp was for TEN whole years! Thus, he was forced to bring himself to cope with the fact that his world was going to be substantially altered. Going from living the free life and taking care of your family to being imprisoned, having your meals cut down to 200 grams a day, being beaten on a regular basis, being allotted only one outfit to wear, and only being allowed a shower every few days is something that I don't know I'd be able to handle. The tales that are told in this book are beyond sad and it made me question, again, how I would handle my cosmos being shaken so badly. There is a point in the book where Denisovich mentions that he (note: this is after eight years of being at the camp) still believes in God since he was sentenced to the camp but no longer believes in prayer. He says that he feels like praying is like making requests that will be rejected or unanswered at all. This passage moved me because, like I mentioned in a previous blog, I wonder what, if anything, it would take for me to completely alter the way I think about my religion. Would being confined to a camp where I'm abused and have no human rights to anything make me question if God is real? I like to think that perhaps a situation like that might bring me closer to God in that I'd have nothing else, no other hope, to hold on to.
A few days ago I finished reading a book called A Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich. The book is about a man, Denisovich, who is a prisoner of one of Stalin's forced work camps. Although the story is about Ivan Denisovich, it's written from what seems to be an onlookers perspective. The text is a culmination of writing that follows Denisovich's schedule and way of life through one day at the camp.
I've chosen to blog about this book because Denisovich was sentenced to ten years in the camp for "being a spy," when the truth is that he just got lost in the woods with a friend and once he came out of the woods they arrested him. The story is tragic and heart wrenching but I feel like it relates to what we've discussed in class in that Denisovich's cosmos was shattered. Just like the guy in the movie clip we viewed in class, his stay at the camp was for TEN whole years! Thus, he was forced to bring himself to cope with the fact that his world was going to be substantially altered. Going from living the free life and taking care of your family to being imprisoned, having your meals cut down to 200 grams a day, being beaten on a regular basis, being allotted only one outfit to wear, and only being allowed a shower every few days is something that I don't know I'd be able to handle. The tales that are told in this book are beyond sad and it made me question, again, how I would handle my cosmos being shaken so badly. There is a point in the book where Denisovich mentions that he (note: this is after eight years of being at the camp) still believes in God since he was sentenced to the camp but no longer believes in prayer. He says that he feels like praying is like making requests that will be rejected or unanswered at all. This passage moved me because, like I mentioned in a previous blog, I wonder what, if anything, it would take for me to completely alter the way I think about my religion. Would being confined to a camp where I'm abused and have no human rights to anything make me question if God is real? I like to think that perhaps a situation like that might bring me closer to God in that I'd have nothing else, no other hope, to hold on to.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Tareva - Week 7
I've grown to learn that my biggest enemy is STRESS. In my life, stress's only purpose is to cause me grief, anxiety, frustration, and fatigue. Thus, I've had to find means of relieving stress when it mounts to its fullest potential. The means of which I come to recognize as being most effective is taking time out, for myself, by the ocean. I've always been a big fan of the water, but here recently, especially, it's become my relief, my "humbler," my friend. I've always enjoyed the way the wind feels while sitting by the water because it reminds me that even though you can't see something, if you feel it, it must be there. What never fails is that the ocean always seems to have a way of making me humble. Allow me to explain; the ocean is HUGE. The power in all of that water is something that I don't believe the human mind can fully grasp. And what amazes me is that God MUST BE even MORE powerful because how else does the ocean know how far to come to and stop? I understand that it's impossible to ignore that the ocean waters do sometimes cross over their boundaries, but hey, freak hurricaines happen. Either way, the ocean has a way of reminding me who's in charge around here.
All of that being said, I'd like to point out a quote from the Dillard text, "Water in particular looks its best, reflecting blue sky in the flat, and chopping it into graveled shallows and white chute and foam in the riffles. On a dark day, or a hazy one, everything's washed - out and lackluster but the water. It carries its own lights." Reading that passage served as reaffirmation for my thoughts on the assertiveness, power, and beauty of the ocean. All in all, I feel like I made a wise choice of how to relieve stress in reminding myself that I'm being watched over and protected by something so majestic.
All of that being said, I'd like to point out a quote from the Dillard text, "Water in particular looks its best, reflecting blue sky in the flat, and chopping it into graveled shallows and white chute and foam in the riffles. On a dark day, or a hazy one, everything's washed - out and lackluster but the water. It carries its own lights." Reading that passage served as reaffirmation for my thoughts on the assertiveness, power, and beauty of the ocean. All in all, I feel like I made a wise choice of how to relieve stress in reminding myself that I'm being watched over and protected by something so majestic.
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