Re: smelly old belly

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: I hate the arbitrary rules too. i remember a few Sundays where the pastor, not Steve, was teaching about letting go and giving ourselves over to God, but all I could think was how the whole church wouldn't really respond too well if I walked up to the front took off all my clothes, threw my wallet at the altar and walked out...what he really wanted was to work the corwd into a sort of self-induced mass-hypnosis that allowed them to feel something from beyond their physical reality, and this he legitimately believed was God. But then in some strange way, God would use even that to reach people who need it...which is why I remain a Christian...it is that direct experience of a reality that i do not understand, but which was embodied in the person of Jesus. : I wish we could purify that symbolism that is in the church, but I don't think it's possible. And if it is, I'm not the one to do it...but then again that's what Gideon said isn't it. Well until there's a wet fleece on my front step, I'll just have to stay where I am. : As for art, even that gets corrupted by the formation of subcultures clinging to that candle flicker of inspiration they found while the real truth is in conflagration just out of their sight. I think it's just as you said, the conflagration is too wild, too untameable. The candle is easier to get a handle on. : While you and many others pursue this fire in your art, I have taken the path of pursueing it in sublimity. I guess I read too much Thoreau or Coleridge. TO me, the quickest way to rid myself of the fear of loosing myself is to thrust myself into situations where I am not in control. Thus I run into the gale, dive into the stormy sea. CLimb to the peak, or slog into the swamp to confront the sublimity of God as displayed in his creation by wiping myself clean of all but the barest instinct to survive and to follow that siren song. And in such situations, no other vestiges of self can remain. I am confronted with what I beleive, with how I have lied. Even coming here to Japan I'm finding was an excercise in this techinique...and what a good one. By the time I finally got here and recovered my senses enough to reflect at all, I had no pride left...at all...really. Unfortunately that damn body keeps crawling back out of the grave (nod to PS) : As for creating, I once studied under a professor, whom I quoted previously, who taught that the maker's knowledge is the deepest form. I think this is the power you mention. To my mind the maker's knowledge, the truly original response, the inside out knowledge, is only possible in us because we share the image of God. While his creative power can bring things into such being as we call physical reality, ours can only create in a limited sense, by using elements of his reality or in the space he allows us inside our minds (like a novel). I'm reminded of Tolkien's description of how the Dwarves were created (The Silmarillian). They were an attempt by a lesser being to mimic the good he saw from Illuvatar (God), and since his motive was truly respectful, Illuvatar granted life to those beings which were made from other elements of Illuvatar's creation and were previously only capable of life when the creator was expressly thinking of them. If he turned his thoughts away, they ceased to be alive. This is our type of creation. This is metaphor, but the power of the metaphor comes when the motive is pure and in the experience, it is granted a life of its own. : Lastly, about the belly...this is a good place to be. For me Jonah's story is extremely comforting because I am just like jonah. His story tells me that in spite of myself I'll end up where God wants me even if I never get the point. jonah never did, but still he accomplished God's purpose. This is a comfort to me who is always running head strong and worried of going in the opposite direction. So take comfort. At least from the belly of the fish, you know you are headed back to the right place. Before that you were still moving the other way. It's a very fatalistic way of viewing things, and may not make any sense to most people, but it's what happens when Existentialism meets medieval Christianity in the turn-of-the-century suburbs of Tampa. But just remember, we're not alone...after all the first rule of Fight CLub is that you don't talk about Fight Club. : Geez, our popular culture just reeks with metaphors so deeply hidden that most gloss over them and never know it. I once wondered if God was still inspiring things like he did in the days when the canon was written. Now I believe the answer is a resounding YES. The puritans used to have this practice where they would take any random thing and try to identify what it revealed about God. It's a great game. And you'd be surprised how even the tiniest things scream with evidence if you look carefully. : So don't fear the loss of self...dive into the fire...torch your own creations...because what is left will be all the purer. Push me into the refining fire man, I want to get smelted! : It may be dark and smelly and scary where you are, but look forward to the day you get puked because that day you'll be on the right beach...still lost, and scrambling back int othe water, but a hell of alot closer to the right spot in spite of yourself. : I think I'll make a t-shirt that says "whale puke". : : yeah, its the metaphorical that matters. this is the seat of power for the shaman, as you obviously know very well. : : ok, following, more lunacy. : : this viewpoint, this knowledge, slips right underneath the subculture like an otter in a bathtub. i have said this hundreds of times by now, but more than anything it is the subculture i object to, with all the written and unwritten rules of behavior. rules that are only crooked, nonsensical shadows of the truths they claim to represent. rules which we only cling to because of the demands of the ego. : : those truths, manifold and protean, are only expressible in an artistic sense through the vehicle of metaphor. : : truth is also expressible in acts of compassion, and in acts of / states of power. not sure how to word that. there is more to life than art, i guess. but i am an artist. i'm not much good beyond that, i don't think. i'm not sure if this makes me terribly selfish. or shell fish. it might. i have spent a lot of time trying to understand how to live authentically. it is one of my primary drives. : : metaphor is a thing that, as you said, must be experienced from within. only in this way is it actual power in the context of a life. looking upon a metaphor as expressed in, erm, holy writ, can be an extremely useful exercise and can be transformative. it can also be destructive when not handled well. : : plumbing the depths of one's own psyche to discover the metaphors arising out of that place (a place that, as steve pointed out elsewhere, is itself a metaphor) leads to a kind of power, a kind of knowing, that is transformative. transformative discovery. within the context of a creative act, like say, writing a novel, the power rising out of these discoveries is rather mind boggling. this is what i am experiencing right now. : : i guess the difference is, that which comes to us in christianity as i have experienced it, has a kind of vast glory that can be completely overpowering. i cannot exist in it for long, it basically destroys me in so many ways that i just sort of end up folding over. breaking into a lot of little mirrors. i keep wishing they would all go dark. : : that which has come to me in my creative moments feels like a thing on a smaller scale. but for me it is no less important. i have been, in one way or another, seeking to escape the glory cloud. not sure, but it may be following me around. or, i keep stumbling into it. once in a while. when i get lucky. : : maybe now i am in the belly of the whale. it is scary in here. but good. good and scary. and smelly. : : is my darkness my light? i have no freaking clue. honestly, i am in the smelly old dark. : : i am where i am though. that much is for sure. : : oh yeah, i'd love to hear those tunes. :-)

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