Today, a new essay, "Mount Osceola," under Essays in the website.  FK 

Yesterday I wrote about tribal people, and it is easy to think that we have little connection with them, except as some sort of genetic link. From the modern perspective, this is true; but if we step outside this perspective we can get a greater and more legitimate view.  In fact, the primitive for most of us is only a wisp of time away.  

In my graduate years, I spent a summer on an archaeological dig in northern Michigan.  The point was to prove, or disprove, the idea that corn agriculture extended that far north in pre-Columbian times. We were on a large lake and we got thousands of artifacts, from about the time of the mound culture's collapse in the 12th century to nearly the time of Christ - exciting stuff, really, with the best thing I dug up being a nearly intact tobacco pipe from about 500 AD.  I do not know what the final analysis revealed (we did find evidence of corn kernels, though - although these could have been taken north), but only that the past as revealed under the earth seemed so long ago - but not.  For instance, we were able to tell by dark spots in the dug "floor" where tent posts had been placed for tee pees or an equivalent.  Evidence of a tent campsite dug up 1000 years later!   

Spooky, really - that someday someone might find evidence of my post-constructed wood shed, the chicken yard, or my bones.  But we tend to judge great age in different ways.  In our current world- culture of constant change, a few hundred years seems tremendous because so much has changed in that time.  In the Americas, that sense of age is even greater; for instance, less than 400 years ago, the pilgrims and others settled my native southern New England.  At the time, the tribes still ruled in what is now Vermont, New York, Pennsylvania - in fact, almost all the areas of the the eastern US outside of small colonies in New England, Virginia and Florida.  And yet, there are still houses intact from that time in my home town, all made of wood, and many people alive who can trace their ancestors back to that century.  It was not long ago - it only seems that way because of how life and our environment has changed.

I have gone to the Southwest quite a bit in the past 20 years, and I love visits to the old Anasazi ruins the most.  There is such a sense of presence there, even after 900 years, and such a feel of the "other," of people so entirely different from us.  And yet, at the time of their final days as a culture in about the 12th century, Europe was entering its classic Gothic period, with many cathedrals from that era still intact and waiting for the tourist's camera.  We know of their lives, their thoughts and their wars, for they were written down not only in languages that we can still understand, but with a sensibility that we can still understand.  They were, as historian Barbara Touchman put it, our "distant mirror:" a recognizable reflection of Western European culture.  To many in Europe, they do not feel that distant at all.

To people of the Italian Renaissance - begun more or less at the end of the 14th century - the ancient Greeks were as relevant to them as 19th and 20th century novelist are to us, or more so.  This "rebirth" was built on the revival of Greek and Roman authors dating back to Homer and, most importantly, to the Greek golden era of around 500 BC.  Thus 2,000 years did not impede them from drawing conclusions from the Greek thoughts to remake their society. They, these philosophers,  were in many ways not only current, but ahead of the times.  And it is easy to see why: the past thousand years of the "Dark Ages" had seemed to hardly move at all (which was its purpose), and 1000 years had meant much less to them than we can imagine.  

The Australian Aborigines think (or thought) in terms of the "Dream Time," a time that goes back to the beginning of time, but is remade in the present through ritual - a logical thing, as time to them is cyclical and endless.  And until the European presence, many or most of the societies of the island continent may have changed little in 40,000 years.  40,000!  What would a few thousand years be in that context?  To us, that time span is almost unthinkable in human terms.  There was no civilization as we know it, no agriculture, no husbandry, nothing of that sort at all anywhere.  To us, an undefinable ancient time - but to the Australians, the time of the ancestors, progenitors just like themselves.  

When we now think of, say, 200 years into the future, our minds are boggled.  The Wisconsin (my current state) of 200 years ago was almost entirely of native culture; now it is almost entirely used for agricultural and other commercial purposes, with a population 50 to 100 times greater than it had been.  Things are moving faster now - what could we possibly get from another 200 years?  Star Trek?  Post-apocalypse Zombie cannibals? (HG Wells wrote of that more than a century ago, even before the A bomb)   But in real human terms, not geological but human, 200 years is nearly nothing.  Still, look at what is coming: even now, our society is trying to press outside the boundaries of nature, with things as prosaic as  gender identity to things as scary as genetic modification through direct manipulation.  Our populations grow, many believe our industries are altering the climate, nuclear technology expands, societal norms of centuries or  millennia are destroyed almost overnight, sometimes by the stroke of a pen.  Looking from a more objective real notion of time, what is happening is beyond (known) precedence, and we know - we KNOW - it cannot last.  Either, we must become "evolved" as they say in Star Trek:The Next Generation, or we must collapse. That is why we are filled with anxiety about the future, and have dreams of alien worlds for our future.   As Yeats said, "things fall apart; the center cannot hold," and it can't, not as it has.  The center must either be remade, or things will indeed fall apart.  If we judge from the past, things WILL fall apart - we are not made for such rapid change.  But there are the dreamers, and there are those who believe we have a guiding hand that will not allow a true collapse - a hand that might guide us to a greater, unthinkable destiny.  But neither those who fear the apocalypse or dream of a new world are fringe elements - rather, they are working from a  more realistic sense of time.  200 years - it is nothing, but somehow we have so compressed it that it might mean anything.  FK                

                 

Discussing the Olympics and our destiny, or "calling" yesterday brought up another view: what of the societies that exist with few goals that separate one from the other?  There are fewer and fewer of these, although there are many where differentiation through skills is minimal - for instance, many who live in rural Africa or Asia have very little opportunity to excel beyond the roll of farmer or peasant.  But let's take some more pristine examples - such as the people I lived with in the Venezuelan Amazon.  

Among them, there was almost no way to differentiate and excel among women; among men, there were only two positions where one might be considered above the rest - the position of headman and that of shaman.  Of my experience, the headman was also the most respected shaman, collapsing the two positions to one.  And given that the headman was only the "head" of about 30 people, all of whom were closely related, the difference wouldn't be as noteworthy as among other societies.  In fact, the headman still had to hunt and plant, and, in even in the time that I went, when where there was a possibility of acquiring a few industrial goods, the amount one could accumulate had to be limited, for movement in the dry season was the norm and carrying excess baggage unattractive.  So even the "big man" of the group was only exceptional because of the prestige given him, and even then, if there was a dispute, the dissidents could simply leave and start their own village.

What, then, of a "calling?"  There was no first place, no gold medal, no substantial wealth, and little in the way of gaining prestige and recognition accept through magical-healing practice.  Is, then, the whole notion of being born for some purpose only an artifact of societies like our own that do have high levels of differentiation and upward mobility?  

From our standpoint, there is an obvious answer - yes.  However, there WAS differentiation, on a more subtle scale.  There were men and women noted as being better hunters, gardeners and harder workers.  Beyond that, they were sharply differentiated by personalities.  Some were downright magisterial, commanding respect instantly, even from outsiders like me.  Others were a little goofy, or jocular, or childish.  Others had mean or violent streaks, both with their woman or women and with men.  These were noted keenly as their "way," their spiritually given presence in the world that had little to do with nature or nurture, in their minds as well as ours (their nurture, or environment, both social and physical, were nearly identical).  Their "way" was connected to various mythical beings or elements, such as the evil or good twin, the moon god, the snake and so on, giving each a facility with certain aspects of the environment.  I did not know of it there, although it was probable, but many tribal people have spirit helpers or animals that serve as their reflection in the spiritual world, and help them (or harm them, if they violate one of their principles) in this world.  

In other words, they are recognized as having spiritual (god- given) aspects that are reflected in their personalities and affinities, which might include certain gifts (eg, ability to hunt deer).  They are, then, like us in their beliefs, with only one major difference that I can think of: traditionally, there was probably no concept of the idea that one had "wasted" one's gifts, as we have.  If a man were lazy, that would simply be part of his aspect.  What you were, you were.  (they had no liquor or way of selling themselves for whatever purpose at that time.  That may have changed).  There was, then, no stress on advancement, the one true reflection on our different ideas about callings.  But one could still hunt and farm and fish and make arrows with enthusiasm and skill.  

And so we are all, according to popular shared belief,  given certain aspects and natures from another plain; we all have, in our ways, a calling.  But is our differentiation as a modern society - our idea of hard work and advancement - a good or an evil?  Is it good to put most things aside and strive to become the best doctor, the best slalom skier, or the best businessman?  Is such dedication a positive, or is it a psychosis or dark deviation?  It is, after all, the hallmark of modernity, of all our terribly efficient wars as well as our tremendous knowledge and advancements in medicine and technology.  Were we meant to simply "be" with our locally recognized gifts (and faults) of nature, or to excel, to become stars, to become  masters of our calling?  Is our greater world society today an aberration, a misuse of our gifts, or the culmination of them?  In other words, is our difference in tune with the will of heaven, or is it hubris, an act analogous to the Satan of the Semitic religions' rebellion against God?  Is our advancement, then, the product of holy dedication or ego worship?  That, a thought for another day.  FK              

It is Olympic time again, and it is the only time I can stand to spend several hours before the television.  I soak up the over-reach, the hyper nationalism, the tributes to excellence, and often go to bed with a fantasy or two about a different life, one in which I had dedicated myself to, say, cross-country skiing and became the first US athlete to stand on the podium for gold in the 30 km combination race.  


Such dreams of glory!  Except that I never once gave a thought to professional or Olympian sports.  My father egged me on a little and I retreated, preferring a hike in the mountains to pushing a training sled in football camp.  Tennis players wore goofy shoes and shorts, skiing was too expensive, skating, we had no rink, and so on, but it didn't matter - it was never in me.  


Not so with the Olympiads.   Again and again they profile them on TV and we find again and again that they were driven to their sport at a very early age, not by a nagging mom, but just because.  Of the medal winning skating pairs, for instance, NBC profiled the man in the pair, showing him in skates and uniform and costume from age 9, already proficient in figure skating and hockey.  At that age, he decided on doing pairs, and preferred to wear all black.  His mother told him, no, he had to decide between ruffles or stones.  His mother said he grimaced and said, "stones I guess."  At that age, I would have run away in a panic.  Worse, he had to decide on a female partner, and found one on the second try (on the first try, the girl didn't like holding hands with a boy.)  She was 7 or 8, and they knew withing two days that they were a match - and have continued as a pair to this Olympics 17 years later.  How could he (I am focusing on the boy now) have made such compromises at his age (girls and stones)?  How could he have picked such a sport?  How did he stick with it through childhood and adolescence?  


We all have known people who have known what they would be from an early age and reached their goal.  My sister was driven - and I mean driven - to be an actress, and that's what she does (although she directs now).  Then there are those who know what they want but are distracted for some  reason or another; a friend of mine wanted to be a journalist, was a natural at it, and got a job in it after college.  After a few years, he also decided to get married and found that his salary would be too low, and he left for an unfulfilling life in the business world - but with a wife and children.  Then there are those like me, who wanted to do many things but could not settle on anything until later (in my case, I fulfilled that late desire, but could find no work in my chosen field).  I have to say that  I have always written but was discouraged from it, nearly daily, by my father.  Fate had another idea, and here I write.  But I am not among those chosen as if by magic to do something.  Nothing stops these people.  They are, it seems, born with it, as a beagle is born with the need and desire to chase rabbits.  Nothing can or will change that need and desire. 


I am sure there have been many psychological profiles on these people, and many theories made that seem conclusive.  Mozart, for instance, had a musician father who willed him to practice; but many have had parents who have tried to impose their will on their children.  If it is something that requires excellence, it seldom if ever works - that must come from within.  But where does this "within" come from?  


In the social sciences, we speak of "nature and nurture" as the two prongs that push us towards certain behaviors and professions.  Both play a part, certainly - the skater could not have been the skater without the invention of skates - and maybe it was a TV presentation that got him interested in the first place.  Of course, he or she would also have to have the knack - thus nurture and nature come into play.  But most of us know that there is something more.  In the old days, and still now among the religious, there is the idea of a "calling."  Often this is not a profession, but a design - let's say, to have a business, raise children, and start a food or education program.  But this calling is most pronounced by those who are called to a profession.  They are usually the most successful at what they do.  It is their rabbit to chase.  And it comes from another source, neither nature or nurture.  One does not have to point to a particular god (although you can - God by any other name is still beyond comprehension) to accept this.  Rather, it is our doppelganger, our hidden self that wishes to be noticed in the physical world.  We saw it in the discussion  on genius, and we see how it is being denied, absorbed by a democratizing principle that seeks to eliminate the idea by spreading it about in equal portions to everyone, making of it nothing.  But everyone does  have this side, and it is not nothing.  For some, rather, it is their time to shine; for others, apparently not.  Why this is so is as unanswerable as fate itself.


But for most of us, we at least have our overall "design."  It can be used for selfish or social purposes (the mechanic can be a good mechanic or he can become a very bad motorcycle gang member); and it can come from fate - or circumstances - rather than a burning, needful desire.  I think that would probably describe most of us, but it is no small thing.  Fate works from birth, it seems, on the truly inspired and gifted, while on the rest of us, it works through our lives, over the years.  I am only now beginning to understand what nearly every very old person says near the end of his life: "I wouldn't change a thing." It still is almost hard to believe, but it is the essence of wisdom.  They see in fate the workings out of their own particular design, and as small as that might seem to everyone else, they see it for a whole world, the world that has been their life, and as such something of great importance, and they are right.  FK       
  

Today, a new essay, "Five Jars of Summer," under Essays in the website.  FK

Over twenty years ago, for some reason I got the urge to "go spiritual" - this after spending the last 12 years on very non-spiritual academic pursuits.  I cannot remember exactly when it happened, but it coincided with finding a used book at a book store by Yogananda called "Autobiography of a Yogi" (I have written of this in an essay last year)  I bought it for 25 cents because I had once come upon it in very strange circumstances 20 or more years before that - and after reading it, my serious - or sometimes only semi-serious - spiritual learning began.  I have not stuck with many of his teachings, but the quest started there - and led to another publication, a magazine called "The Quest" published by the Theosophical Society.  It was, at the time, a godsend, for here were people who openly and causally talked about all those spiritual things that are not to be found in our popular culture and that I craved.  I have had a subscription to the magazine ever since, although of late I haven't often read it.  In recent years, my knowledge of great spiritual authors has expanded, and the magazine often sounds tinny or too New Age.  In fact, some of the great theologians have trashed the Theosophical Society for its bland inclusionism.  And so I admit that what was once a needed connection to others with similar interests has now become something of a back burner publication.  

It has gotten better recently, though, with its new editor, Richard Smoley, and a few days ago I decided to go through the entire winter issue for better or for worse.  The opening editorial by Smoley was for better, and surprised me as much as the magazine had 20 years ago.  In it he talks of Enlightenment - what is it and who has it.  Seeking out a Buddhist master, he is told that an enlightened being is one who has eliminated the Three Poisons in himself - that is, "Desire, Anger and Delusion."  This is not, Smoley points out, the same as a "sudden cognitive awakening" as some of us think of enlightenment.  This "awakening" happens to many of us, usually at the start of a spiritual path, after which the individual has to go through "a long process of discipline and purification in order to anchor it [the experience] in his being." (this is what I had written at the end of the first chapter in my book, Dream Weaver.  It has proven to be absolutely correct.)  The sudden and complete awakening is, in reality, extremely rare - one has to go back to someone like St. Paul for such a thing, and even he had spent several years in the wilderness after the Road to Damascus before he began to preach.  

But Smoley goes on.  Recall that this is the editor of Quest magazine, a man who is in constant contact with dozens or even hundreds of spiritual luminaries.  He at one point gives us something most of us know - that gurus with certain spiritual powers who then abuse their position are not enlightened, or full of "crazy wisdom."  Rather, they are incomplete spiritually and as criminal in nature as any con man.  Further, though - and this is what surprised me -  he states that "I have never met anyone who was even close to being enlightened," in the Buddhist sense of having dominated the three poisons.  He, in his position, has never met a one!  He goes on to speculate that this perfected person is either an impossibility or extremely rare, and concludes that he sides with the latter, if for no other reason than that the human potential is capable of almost everything.  But just that - that enlightened beings are so rare that he had not met anyone, not in India or Nepal or anywhere, who was even CLOSE to perfection.  

We have our masters, the men who are known as the originators of  religion - our Jesus and Gautama - who are said to have been perfect, or to have become perfect, and we should know how precious they are.  That leaves the rest of them - the gurus, the saints, the wonder-workers, the brave and the generous - in the same boat as, well, me.  Better than me, no doubt, but still imperfect.  I think that years ago this would have discouraged me; but now it is a thing of brightness, for, as un-congenial as I may be, I am not as far off the mark from anyone else as I had thought.  

But it also brings up something that we should watch out for - the deification of certain esteemed  people.  We know how dangerous that is for politics, but it is also dangerous for religion, for every time a religious leader acts in an imperfect way, the popular media denigrate the religion he is from.  He is, they say, supposed to be absolutely in accord with his religion's ideals; he is supposed to be perfect!  If he is not, somehow that has come to mean that the religion is too flawed to be taken seriously.  But we have few perfect souls on this earth and should not expect them.  They only come once every thousand years or so.  But that should not mean that we throw the baby out with the bath water - or the greater moral beliefs out with the imperfect messengers.  

And, once again, one can take heart - if no one is perfect, then we all have the right to aspire to become greater, because we are all, after all, in the same shoes.  FK     

To finish off on Graham Greene's quest for the primitive: There is no question that Greene himself saw the primitive life as a better way of life than upper class 1930's English society, which he often abandoned for the "seedy," as he calls it.  The docks, the whorehouses, the low class pubs - to him, these were closer to the authentic man than the haunts of the civilized, the former gaining much of his time and attention for amusement.  I can't blame him - the strictures of the old upper crust WERE stifling - but was the reverse, the primitive of Africa, really better?  

For him, again, the answer would be yes, for when he was sick in the "bush" with the standard fevers, he admitted to finding in himself something he had not done before - a desire to live!  I do think he represents an extreme case of the civilized - that is, where one was supposed to stay in control of one's emotions and desires at all times.  He did not, but he knew he was doing wrong by not doing so, which explains to a great extent why he remained a Catholic - the guilt was genuine, and he welcomed God's stamp of approval.  

What Greene was really grappling with is what is called the Protestant Ethic, which 19th century sociologist Max Weber used to explain the rise of capitalism.  Capitalism is based on the re-investment of excess capital into business and industry.  In the past, Weber claimed, people didn't invest - they spent, often on foolish and lavish things.  But with the development of the Protestant Ethic - what we in this country ascribed to the Puritans, even though it was much more widely spread - there was often plenty of cash left over, not because the strict Protestant intended to invest it, but because he was forbidden by his ethic to enjoy it.  As a sinner, he was supposed to work hard and deny the call from his sinful body to rest. But as he worked hard, he made excess capital.  But he could not spend it on pleasure, either.  The question then became: what to do with the extra money?  As the reader can see, this led to investment, larger companies, a greatly expanded world economy - in essence, to the world of expanding markets and investment we have today.

But the new system, which came about at first by accident rather than premeditation, demanded that one forewent pleasure for today for gain later; in other words, the Puritan doctrine of self control and denial of pleasure had to be maintained in the face of ever-increasing wealth and temptations.  This brought about the modern form of guilt, and with it, unhappiness.  This was Greene's world and what he was trying to escape.

One can follow the self- hatred promulgated by the Western Elite from the 19th century colleges of Oxford and Cambridge right down to the Self - hate of the politically correct multi-culturalists (I contrast them with compassionate multi-culturalists, who approach from a positive rather than punitive perspective).  And throughout this stream, the idea of the Edenic primitive, begun in earnest at the start of the industrial age, has grown.  But for those who have gone into the "primitive," only a very strong predisposition for this myth can keep them hanging on to it.  Greene himself spoke of the greedy chiefs, the squabbling porters and always the disease and filth of the backcountry of Liberia.  And yet, at the end, he clung to his primitive ideal.  Yes, it had been rough, his 30 days in the jungle, but, as said above, he had come to realize that he had a will to live.  I might add that he came to that realization after fearing for his own health outside of the sight of any doctor or hospital.  

I have to compare his experiences with civilization and the primitive with my own.  As stated a few blogs ago, I believe that living as the Indians did in the Amazon probably WOULD make me happier - if I had been raised there.  As it was, in the real world, I felt (for two years, a lot longer than 30 days) that life was passing me by; that my precious youth was slipping away in a hammock in the  heated afternoon.  I usually had no pressures and things to do - which made me antsy after a while.  I needed and need to progress to be happy, even though that happiness is always elusive, for to progress is ever to move on, to not stay in a "happy zone."

So, like Greene, I am affected by the Protestant Ethic.  But unlike Greene, my world, and much of America's world, is not nearly so stifling.  We can have fun; we buy boats and ski-dos and take vacations.  We eat too much and don't worry about the sin of any of it.  We work hard and we feel we deserve our pleasures.  And we are connected with the bright, exciting world of instant electronic media.  

Green sought the primitive, ultimately, not for comfort, but for authenticity; he felt that his "self" was a civilized phony; that even the suffering of the primitive and the meanness was a better thing than the artificiality of civilization.  I believe in many ways he is correct, but in many ways, for us in America today, he is not: we can find the natural in nature; we can enjoy life without guilt; we can do exotic things like meditate and yoga without being treated like outcasts.  In other words, we can expand beyond the boundaries of civilization without having to leave it.  To those who remain trapped in it, I can see how it would be hell.  But I think today in this country, we have at least a partial way out.  

Does our superior health care, security and safety compensate for our loss of full autonomy in the work place and for unpleasant things like government taxes and laws?  Does it compensate for a loss of closeness with nature?  For me, the answer is yes and no. I know for a fact that, while I might prefer the primitive, that I can no longer live it.  I wonder what the response in general would be to that question if people really thought about the differences and what it would mean in their lives.  To me, I would rather live in both worlds, taking the best of both, but that is harder and harder to do.  FK

Today, an Essay, "One Last Call," under "Essays" in the web site.  This is the one that needed clearance, and it was obtained.  If you read it, you will see why.  FK