The Circular Ideological Spectrum

In theory, ideological positions fall along a spectrum.  In practice, it is more a loop. The more extreme, the more a mirror of the opposition. This is intuitive for anyone aware of history, or detached enough from the current Right/Left dichotomy in the West at least to grasp. The historical example is how much Nazism Stalinism, although mortally opposed, were in practice merely different shades of the same brutal, totalitarianism, attempting to build utopia out of a mountain of skulls, and failing at the cost of tens of millions of lives.

In terms of the current Right/Left dichotomy, there is little to practically separate an actual "Alt Right" White Supremacist from an actual violent Anarcho Communist. Both espouse violence in favor of debate, forgo personal responsibility in all areas of life except in the practice of extreme ideology, and squarely place the blame for perceived ills on others, not to mention both are fundamentally detached from reality. 

Any addiction, including to ideology is unhealthy. It substitutes fantasy for truth, and destroys the agency of its victim. In the case of ideology, it is the beam in the eye of one trying to remove a speck from the opposition, or in this case the black hood on the one trying to remove the white bed sheet from the other.  Fortunately, vocal minorities in both directions do not generally speak for the majority of people simply more concerned with their day to day lives than media sophistry and rhetorical noise. The ratings though do seem to benefit. 

On the other hand, the hidden deception, far more banal because it passes as virtuous, possesses those claiming a position of faith in opposition to one of the two extremes. In the West, this often means Christians who may perceive themselves as boldly opposing injustice when they decry the rise of Fascism, Communism, Islamism, whatever happens to be readily and obviously worth opposing. Evil must indeed be opposed by the person of faith. It must be named, defined, its victims protected, if need by at the greatest risk to the person of faith. We rightly remember those from the past who have done this as heroes. However, just as ideological extremes mirror each other the farther apart they become, so too does moral outrage become moral panic the more fashionable the object of that initial outrage. 

Both extremism, and moral panic are fundamentally disconnected from the complexity of the world. Both grossly oversimplify day to day existence. Both are evil manipulations of the human tendency for availability bias, and both are far more in keeping with mob behavior than heroic courage. Furthermore, both are fundamentally lacking in introspection. 

For the person of faith, the beam to be removed is the deception that the methods of the City of Man can bring the outcomes of the City of God. It is possible to work to good effect in the City of Man, but using its methods to further the latter will turn in into the former far more surely than the alternative.  Evil must be opposed, and preferably by rules it does not play and cannot beat. Leftist and Rightist extremism are both ridiculous at best and abhorrently sinister at worst. However, using one to combat the other, focusing on one while ignoring the other, or allying with the methods of one to confront the other, no matter how noble on the surface, is nothing short of moral prostitution, and idolatry. We do not look to win the game, but to destroy it. It is not that such idealism seeks too much, but rather too little. 

The methods of the City of God are faith, hope, and love. Forgiveness, reconciliation, compassion, mercy. It is ridiculous to expect these virtues from the City of Man, neither is it its place to exhibit them. The best it can do is equality before its laws. To think otherwise ignores history. The methods of the City of God though are firmly the responsibility, and unique capability of the individual and community of faith. Even in a totalitarian regime, the most important problems to fix are often right next door in the form of those needing shelter.  

In general, if it's easy to condemn, it isn't the deeper problem. Moral courage generally means taking a stand that actually assumes risk. Both ideological extremism and moral panic are hubris fueled mass self deceptions. The real extremism is to put childish utopianism behind us, and seek to change what we have the opportunity to. Perhaps with faith in these smaller works, greater ones will be opened. The homeless alcoholic, teen mother, depressed family member, etc need your help as much as the nebulous masses.  You will sooner see results with such skin in the game.          

Service

In an ideal world, there would be no need of a day to celebrate those who served, fought, and died in wars past and present. In an ideal world there would be no occasion for the mistake and resulting tragedy war always is. There would not be such extremes that allow for such brutality. As is evident, this is not an ideal world. However, beyond surface hero worship, which is more aimed at manipulating consumer sentiments than honoring veterans, the deeper meanings resonate strongly. 

We joined for various reasons. Some more noble than others. Most served honorably, and a few did not. None the less, we are are here now. In the greater scheme of things, we went to war for various reasons. Sometimes for survival, and sometimes for hubris, but always because there were failures, a few months, a few years, a few centuries up stream which lead to violent resolution at the expense of those present, and those who later must resolve yet more unsolved problems with blood, both their own, and of innocents bystander. War indeed may be just or unjust, and may even be unavoidable, but it is always a mistake if its causes are traced far enough back. 

Even the most necessary justice is tragic. Even the greatest good can be tragic when brought into a world twisted enough to snap even when graced by the kindest compassion. Even the birth of Jesus himself resulted in Herod killing the male children of Judea. The ideal world does not exist. Rather, it is uncertainty, fear, and suffering we are subjected to. However, it may also be faith, hope, and love we turn to for light in the darkness. To do so, you must be in a position to do so. You must be challenged. You must have skin in the game. 

There are many paths to personal risk and unselfish sacrifice. Military service is one of the most visible and most extreme, thus it is appropriate to honor those who did and continue to serve. However, the path to bringing order out of chaos lays open to anyone willing to do so, starting with the things closest to them. Rather than simply raging against systemic injustice, strike up a conversation with the homeless alcoholic on your street corner. Rather than simply decrying oppression, support and encourage those around you suffering it. Rather than just pointing out what is wrong, fix it to the best of your abilities, and thank a veteran or two for risking to do the same. 

Strange Dreams

The following is an interesting account of an adventure had by someone I know, which borders on the insane, but perhap the readers of this space are into that sort of thing. 

I found myself in seated meditation in a temple with oppressive tropical heat carried on the breeze through the hall. A sent of curry and fish oil carried on the same breeze. The rounded script recording the sutras on dried banana leaves, carved such so as to not destroy the medium gave away the language. I was in Burma, and my saffron robes give away my station. I am a monk, seated in meditation, searching for freedom from suffering.

I sat and I chanted. Breath in. Breath out. My pronunciation of the ancient words in a continuous and ever complexifying rhythum indicated a mastery of the practices of my sect. I strove to detach. Thought. No thought. Focus. No focus. Mind. No mind.

I had walked this path before. I had walked it for many years at this point. The final objective known for what I believed, but not for anything here to fore experienced or seen. And then a trance. And then a vision.

I was transported into another state of awareness. Perhaps not elevated, but perception none the less altered. Perhaps relaxed to see what was already there, and what had always been there. The distractions of physical samsara faded. I saw instead what lay beyond them, and it was yet even more suffering. The desert of gray below and in the sky stretched to the horizon. If anything, the view was more troubling in the absence of the physical attachments I had strived so long to detach from. In something so close to a void, it had always been assumed one would reach freedom from attachment. But here more than anything I was made aware of my own attachment to mortality. Even beyond the physical I was still bound to death and rebirth. Or perhaps I was simply bound to death in this place so bland and between light and dark, so devoid and yet so vivid as to call into question the deepest fundamentals of what we believed about extinguishing the flame. About Nirvana.

Perhaps I was in this trance forever. Perhaps only a few moments. The shift was as extreme as a flame being extinguished, only in revers. A light had appeared on the horizon. Or maybe it was the horizon. So massive the thing as to transcend the notions of time and space so normally visible in the physical samsara. It was as if it transcended ages, not only worlds. It was a ship, a vessel I knew in one look from the third eye could hold all below Nirvana. Perhaps it could hold that too. I would have fled, had I not forgotten my own body and had I not felt some very distant, yet very deep memory triggered by the vision.

The ship sat on the clouds above, which did not seem so gray anymore in the shadow of something so radiant. And then a voice. "See and understand. I have brought a ship great enough to hold the worlds. And so it shall for all below shall be raised above to Golden City beyond samsara. Beyond Nirvana. Beyond all comprehension. " And then I saw before me what I had only understood before to be an instrument of death. A cross of wood. And before it, a river of blood. I heard again, "all things in the worlds must die to be raised to life again. The cycle of death and rebirth you know well. I have died so that all the worlds my rise forever to the Golden City. Come and bathe in my blood, which will flow through all the worlds." I waded into the river, and I heard again, "I am the one you have heard about. The one you have been waiting for. The one the Buddhas spoke of. I am the Mesia."

At this I descended into the river, and all went dark. I awoke to find myself thrashing about at my desk, the sound of the highway outside, and my alarm clock about to go off.

Changing Seasons

It is nearing the end of the year. The season has shifted, and with it, life has made itself more scarce. Whether it be the trees barren of leaves, the grass dead in the frost, animals in hibernation, the birds flying over the horizon, or simply the sun lower in the sky in the interludes between long cold nights. The whole world dies to one degree or another and each element in it's own way. And then, it comes back to life more forcefully than before.

Eons of experience points to the seasons eventually changing, life returning, and the cycle continuing. It is the natural order of things, and a process we have long come to expect and take for granted. Those who went before from the majority of cultures found spiritual significance in the changing patterns. Some spoke of thin spaces as the seasons changed. The natural and the super natural getting closer as we were driven closer to each other to avoid the cold. Death always brings near the other. Some saw the need to placate the gods with blood sacrifices when they sensed them approaching in these times of shifts to darkness. 

Newer faiths capitalized on the older customs and adapted them to convey new messages. Whether Christianity, Islam, or consumerism, the innate urge to commune with the other is a powerful force, and one for which we still sacrifice greatly for the chance to turn what is into what be wish it could be. 

Some would see the rampant consumption and mass placating of social anxieties to be noise confusing us from the signal  for the "reason for the season". I see it as something coming from our deepest being. We wish more than anything else to be connected, and most of all to the Divine Other. Whether we recognize it or not, it is as fundamental as breath. Nearly as fundamental is our notion that to get something, you must give something. Thus the sacrifice.

As with everything though, there is a deeper pattern. Something over the horizon. A longer trajectory. 

All things die. However when death passes, life reemerges more forcefully than before, as surely as the grass after the thaw, and cherry blossoms in spring. It is such on more than the obvious level. We sense the thin spaces. Our traditions originated from fundamental ideas about the world. Even if the original meanings have long since been covered in noise, we still sense it. 

I commemorates this time in memory of when the Divine stepped through the thin space into the physical, soon to die, and then, to rise. And with this resurrection, the whole world will follow. The ultimate winter, and the ultimate spring to follow. Such is the sacrifice all our attempts only pointed to. Carried on the winds of ultimate compassion, there is a ship large enough to hold all the world. 

Death is still among us and overtakes all things. Belief in that not yet seen requires faith. We are creatures of faith regardless of its object. 

I chose to have faith in the notion that the true height of mastery is not to bring good from good, but to turn that which is broken and dying to even greater good. This is what I see as the nights are long and cold and life retreats. This is what I look forward to when spring comes again. 

Christmas

Good intentions are not the same things as good results. The actual result of something is more important than the form that thing took. Likewise, wisdom is vindicated by all of her children.

The modern world has a way of confusing ultimate and lasting good with what makes you feel good right now. Though there is nothing wrong with immediate pleasure and comfort, the experience is non-benign if divorced from deeper realities. It is this disaggregation of our surface experiences from deeper realities, and subsequent compartmentalization of different aspects of our lives that leads to many of our personal and relational problems.

At the same time, good results must be recognized for what they are. This is all a roundabout way of getting to the point, which is that despite all of the stress, chaos, confusion, and sometimes loneliness, solitude and depression that are a part of this time of year; despite the rampant materialism, political correctness, and loss of perspective as to the original meaning of the season, even if the original meaning was a week of festivities dedicated to the god Cronus, the ultimate result is what matters. 

The preponderance of us are drawn closer to those we love and care about, and are given cause to reflect on that which we consider meaningful. There is joy, there is happiness, even if there is sorrow. 

It is for this last point it is most fitting that some of us celebrate the coming of the Divine in human form on this day. In the midst of pain and suffering, joy and hope, not apart from the darkness, but in the midst of it. The light does indeed shine in the darkness and the darkness will not overcome it. It is beyond a name and does not require recognition to be vindicated in all of our actions, for all of our actions that are good find their ultimate source and meaning in It. There is only one circle of love, friendship, happiness, hope, peace, and joy in the Universe. That circle finds its form in what I call the Father, the Son, and the Spirit. It is on this day I remember this circle of all that is good taking on human form in the depths of human suffering and brokenness. 

It is still here. He/She is still here. The Divine came irreversibly into the world over 2000 years ago and remains present in all those who allow It to live through them. It lives through you and I if we allow it it to. That circle of good many of us find ourselves drawn into is a step in the right direction. 

Boundaries

The things we most often argue about are only symptoms of things hidden under the surface that we are not yet ready to confront.

Consider a romantic couple fighting over what they see to be bad traits in each other. A girlfriend accusing you of being too prideful. A boy friend saying you aren't giving enough to the relationship, or any number of other combinations.

In emotionally charged conflicts, which these tend to be, it is a safe assumption that whatever is being openly discussed is not the root cause of the conflict. It is both sides triangulating away from something hidden and too difficult to bring up. The question to ask is what is the underlying cause? More importantly, why can't we talk about it?

The reason has less to do with hiding things than it does with creating boundaries, or rather not creating them. On the one hand we avoid deep confrontation in favor of surface arguments because deep confrontation would leave us exposed for who we really are, thus violating the most fundamental boundary, but what lies in the depths of who we are is not always docile. When left in darkness, it has a tendency to run rampant and ravage. On the other hand, the reason things become hidden is because we did not pay attention to them and did not set boundaries around them to begin with. When not so restrained, and thus not in our control, they nearly always wonder to darkness.

In the case of people having gone through any manner of abuse at the hands of someone more powerful than them, this process is taken out of their hands and survival takes over. All the same, what is hidden must be brought out one day and must be framed for what it is.

To name something is to take power over it. It is the act of defining it and bounding it. It is also the first step to being free of the chaotic waves of fear and anxiety, and the first move to take hold of the weapons of reason and wisdom. This is seldom an act that is accomplished in solitude. However, the choice to take control originates with each individual.

So what is really under the surface? What is the real problem? What is it that you have yet to bring into the light and set a fence around, rather than leaving it to roam and ravage in the darkness?