All My Doors Are Open — Image by kenne
Where you stand
Matters where you sit.
Archive for the ‘Exisitentialism’ Category
Begin With The Glass All Empty Leave a comment
The Courage To Be 4 comments
Existential me — Image by me
THE COURAGE TO BE
Let’s not join the chorus of those predicting aExiste political crises. It is easy to succumb to the siren song of fear.
Twentieth-century existential philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre wrote Being and Nothingness. In it, Sartre assumes
that “self” exists in a material universe (Being), but our consciousness does not cohabitate with the body.
Consciousness provides freedom, which gives us an infinite potential for the future. However, our presence
in time makes us finite and ignorant. As a result, our consciousness can perceive what is not but
could be (Nothingness). Sartre believed that human existence is a condition of nothingness,
which allows for conscious choices within our being.
It is this dichotomy that causes fear (existential fear or “angst” – a Kierkegaard term) since our subjective choices
(in the present) represent a limit to our conscious thoughts. As a result, we (humans) tend to free our fear
through activities designed to take us toward some meaningful end. This freeing can take on many forms,
involving immersing oneself into things in our day-to-day experience (being). We, therefore, escape
this threat of non-being by immersing ourselves in being, i.e., reading a book, watching TV, listening to music, etc.
Doing so doesn’t create a state of being fearless but serves as a rest area in our existential fear.
To be without fear would suggest the worst possible existence (psychological). The more we try to reduce or
eliminate fear, the more we become aware of fear, a form of fear about fear. So, the proper response to fear
is to stop being fearful of fear. Another well-known existentialist, Soren Kierkegaard, believed facing fear
is the best way to deal with it courageously. “So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing
we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts
to convert retreat into advance.” (FDR’s First Inaugural Address)
The question is, “Do we have the courage to be?” Only each individual can honestly answer this question.
— kenne
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Does It Matter That There Is No Matter? May 10, 2008 — Revisited Leave a comment
Does It Matter That There Is No Matter?
The short answer is, no. What matters is “…the matrix of all matter.” The dictionary definition of a matrix is “…that which gives origin or form to a thing, or which serves to enclose it; the rectangular arrangement into rows and columns of the elements of a set.” A matrix is formed when parallel existences are crossed to create new relationships that allow for a convivial environment. For Max Planck, who most credit the modern use of “matrix”, it was the field of resulting from linking the conscious and intelligent mind. The process of doing this, in which we can exist as one in the universe, is matrixing. That is to say that we continually attempt to alter our surroundings to benefit all existence more and more. This is what matrixing is all about: constantly developing an environment by building upon a past development without having to recreate the original development from scratch.
From an existential view, it is the act of placing one’s self back into the world, becoming unified with all things. To do otherwise is to ignore enough reality, in which that not ignored is distorted in ignorance. Traditional science tends to view humans as separate from the whole and in doing so can result in the repression of a single phenomenon. The act of this behavior is judging. Thou shalt not judge! Placing desires for one thing above existence in the fullness of all it is. By setting up preferences that exclude any of life, we have condemned ourselves to ignorance. If matrixing is the process of living as one in the universe, then the goal of understanding existence is becoming identical with the process. One is closest to understanding existence when most puzzled as to the true nature of the universe.
Yesterday, I received an email from a friend in Brazil in response to one of my blog entries, which I would like to share:
“Although I may agree with you in several aspects, I´m not that optimistic and idealistic. Many consequences (especially those relating to climatic aspects and geo-political chaotic scenarios) won´t be able to be avoided, which will cause an increase in pain and suffering in the world. Tomorrow´s dawn will be a dark one, no matter what we do now. We can only prepare ourselves and make sure the day after tomorrow won´t be even darker —
‘Can you picture what will be
so limiteless and free
desperately in need… of some…stranger´s hand
in a desperate land.'”
Such a feeling is not uncommon in today’s world, which has also been noted by one of today’s most noted writers, Gregg Braden, on the marriage of science and spirituality being the answer to solving problems such as those expressed by my Brazilian friend. Last evening, Joy and I had an opportunity to attend Gregg’s presentation at Unity Houston titled “The Science of Miracles: If You Know the Code, You Choose the Limits!” Can we solve today’s major global problems, which have existed in the past but are now converging into a “perfect storm” scenario for the first time? For Gregg Braden, the answer is Yes!
However, it is in our hands.
— kenne
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Wet Spider Web Leave a comment
Wet Spider Web By Spillway — Image by kenne
“I’d come to realize that all our troubles spring from our failure to use plain, clear-cut language.”
―
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A Cartoon or An Illustration 1 comment
The New Yorker Cover Story (October 31, 2022) by Sergio García Sánchez
First, let me say I love the work of Sergio García Sánchez. I find it very creative, using clean lines and a lot of symbolism. In the October 31, 2022, issue of The New Yorker, Sánchez uses the backdrop of the Grand Central Terminal for Halloween creators passing through the now busy terminal compared to during the pandemic.
On May 5, 2020, I did a Cartoon du jour posting of the Sánchez cover of Walt Whitman on The New York Times Book Review cover. I first so it as a cartoon, or was it? Was it an illustration? To answer the question, I turned to David Blumenstein, who wrote a posting on Medium, Illustrations vs. Cartoons vs. Comics. What’s the difference, and when do I use each one?
Generally speaking:
Illustrations can tell you what is happening.
Cartoons can tell you how people are feeling.
That works for me, so the October 31 cover is an illustration. Thank you, David.
— kenne
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Never Believe Your Own Lies 4 comments
Cactus Blossom: Kind of Holiness or Wonderfulness in Nature (April 10, 2022) — Image by kenne
“Above all, don’t lie to yourself.
The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie
comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him,
or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others.
And having no respect he ceases to love.”
— Fyodor Mikhailevich Dostoevsky
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Barn Owl Up Close 2 comments
Barn Owl Up Close — Image by kenne
Nature is not to be
put in order,
nature is order.
We must put
ourselves
in accord
with this order.
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Kenne Squared Leave a comment
Kenne Squared — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“All that is transitory is but a metaphor.”
―
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To Walk The Line . . . 3 comments
Fenceline — To walk the line is to understand both sides of the fence. — kenne
“The most thought-provoking thing in our thought-provoking time
is that we are still not thinking.”
— Martin Heidegger
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Mountain Wildflowers Leave a comment
Wildflowers on Mt. Lemmon, Santa Catalina Mountains — Images by kenne
What is the late November doing
With the disturbance of the spring
And creatures of the summer heat,
And snowdrops writhing under feet
And hollyhocks that aim too high
Red into grey and tumble down
Late roses filled with early snow?
Thunder rolled by the rolling stars
Simulates triumphal cars
Deployed in constellated wars
Scorpion fights against the sun
Until the Sun and Moon go down
Comets weep and Leonids fly
Hunt the heavens and the plains
Whirled in a vortex that shall bring
The world to that destructive fire
Which burns before the ice-cap reigns
— from Four Quartets by T. S. Eliot
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“Global Warming” Leave a comment
“Global Warming” — Photo-Artistry by kenne
“Maybe it’s not about a happy ending.
Maybe it’s about the story.”
— Albert Camus
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Sunrise On Wildhorse Trail 1 comment
Sunrise On Wildhorse Trail (Saguaro National Park – East) — Image by kenne
“Knowledge of that which concerns us infinitely
is possible only in an attitude of infinite concern.”
― Paul Tillich
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Cartoon Du Jour — If You Are Not, Then You Are Dead 2 comments
nearlywildcamping.org
If you are not, then you are dead!
— kenne
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24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home #6 3 comments
Thomas R. Turner (May 23, 1942–November 13, 2014) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
This posting is the sixth, and last, I will be sharing from a long poem written by Tom
sometime around 1980 after his wife left him. Today is the fifth anniversary of his death.
24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home
(Taken from a Brooklyn Bus Route and the Title of a Blues Album.)
The nuances between us were scattered with the
January snows of Peter's arrival.
Ambiguities, second starts and brokendreams were too
Tangled up in Blue to
Cut to the exact place on the page where our rhythm had
Broken.
I'm not that young any more.
"Get off your stagnant ass and do something."
The scenario years later would speak.
The Pacific Northwest and a three quarter profile statement
Echoing out Denny's window
Why I never got a job during all those summers.
Only the facts she put to me.
I couldn't keep in step with the definitions you
Dreamed.
We speculated endlessly in different directions
Whether our togethrness might might imaginable be framed
From inside so that the usual connection between lover
And lover and loved and loved would be interchangeable but
Paradoxically unchanging.
(For my benefit, I suppose)
Was the fiction of my eroticism so damn necessary?
Somewhere I glimpsed you
Coming at me; balancing cryptic hats . . .
Laughing comic confusion.
Now I never see you anymore.
The summers are much colder tha used to be
In that other time, when you and I were young.
I miss the human truth of your smile;
The half-hearted gaze of your voice and all the things
That you'll always be to me.
Only thee is no comic relief
Just a
Curious translation of cracked nostalgia.
But lets
Skip the arguments.
I already know how the story ends:
A-not-so-crytic-message:
Don't be naive
You could only gaze into the distance at my life.
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24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home #4 Leave a comment
Thomas R. Turner (May 23, 1942–November 13, 2014) — Photo-Artistry by kenne
This posting is the fourth of several I will be sharing from a long poem written by Tom
sometime around 1980 after his wife left him. Today is the fifth anniversary of his death.
24 to Harwood and Cropsy: No Road Back Home
(Taken from a Brooklyn Bus Route and the Title of a Blues Album.)
Closely watched trains came and went without me without us
I somehow missed you
Eyes have a way.
After love with my caliban sweat and noises
A vacant resentment would knife
From glares askance
First seen in the pain of Vanessa-labor.
And this is what happens when you love someone?
Progeny and sunburn haired sensualness
Prefaced Rare-Earth and a student nurse.
The ideology of lesbos intimacy had
Clandestinely raised its latent head.
But it doesn't matter anymore.
(You were the poet in my heart)
91st street was the end
Wasn't it?
Curious how our windows are always steamed-up
On Autumnal days.
(Was ANYTHING central?)
The "is-this-all-there-is" syndrome sums up the
Period: Existentialist discontent
With a walk-up duplex decor.
A matter-of-fact sexuality
Presaged a psychic-incarnation I couldn't see.
Lisa brought home a metamorphosis I didn't
Realize.
They cut your "tubes" after she came and that was that.
Funny how I thought even then that is was
All a matter of hormonal imbalance. Shit!
And what about you?
Paradoxes betray the limits of logic
Not of the reality we shared.
Your "passion" was stillborn though so damn necessary.
A dissolution of absence into substance sucked
Screaming through a Rimbaud-Day-On-Fire.
I could't laugh enough for the
Frivolity she needed but detested.
