Who the hell would do that?

After reading recent entries about Dante's Divine Comedy over at One Cosmos, I became ashamed of never having read one of the most influential works in western literature, so I downloaded it to my mobile phone's Kindle reader. I may have made a mistake in picking a poetic translation for my first read through, as it is rather old-fashioned and I am not a native English speaker. But I am pretty sure I understand almost everything and misunderstand nothing, at least linguistically. The deeper meaning may be another matter.

The other day I came to the part where Dante accuses romance novels of leading people in perdition. As proof, his literary self interviews an otherwise nice couple who were reading a Camelot novel together and, as the novel neared its climax, they fell into the same mood and ended up in the Hell of Lust together.

My immediate reaction on reading this: "Who the hell would read a romance novel alone together if they did not already plan to do the deed?"

But this, of course, is just one example. The truth is that very often, it requires careful planning to fail properly. Or in other words, picking the wrong battle ground and sticking to it is half the lost battle. Or three quarters, more likely. A kind of perverse patience may even be required, as in the above example, "Ofttimes by that reading our eyes were drawn together, and the hue fled for our alter'd cheek." Ofttimes, huh? Each of which times would cause another person to go "What the Hell are we doing??" and hastily arrange for some diversion. It requires perseverance to sin properly. But it is definitely doable. I can tell that by experience, albeit not such a romantic experience as that.

The thing is, this does not apply to lust alone, of course. The habitually angry will seek out sources of anger like a hungry looking for food, and the fearful will seek out what scares them, and the cynical that which confirms their low opinion of others. It is hard to explain modern news media in any other way. Who in their right mind would spend large portions of the day following that litany of ill, if their mind was filled with Light?

And so on. The voice in your heart knows better than I what applies to each.

"Parasites on the holy"

I've been reading a bit in Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz' Thirteen Petalled Rose, a surprisingly approachable book. (At least after having rammed my head against the walls of Schuon and Aurobindo repeatedly...) Some things, I can see, are not right for me. But other things seem quite helpful. Anyway, I came across a drive-by mention in his chapter on holiness, that there exist entities that are parasites on the holy.*

At this point, of course, my thoughts went to One Cosmos Under God (another fairly easy read), where Robert Godwin uses the phrase "mind parasites" to describe the unhelpful complexes that plague our species. Given that Rabbi Steinsaltz considers the human being a line or ray that stretches all the way from the Holy One to the material plane and beyond, or that humans are said to be in the image of God, it makes perfect sense to have parasitic entities swarming us. This is not a purely religious observation: The very fact that we have creativity and imagination is what makes it possible for us to also play host to all kinds of weirdness.

(* Steinsaltz believes that approaching holy places or times without proper preparation, or at the very least proper attitude, may be worse than nothing. The New Testament expresses a similar view in regards to the Eucharist, to the point where indifference to its spiritual nature may even be life-threatening. In light of this we may surmise that Jesus' warning to not give dogs what is holy is also an expression of concern for the dogs. On the Internet, nobody can see that you are a dog, so take care.)

A long canvas to bleach

That is a common expression here in Norway, or at least it used to be, back when patience still was considered a virtue. It means a project that takes an inordinate amount of time. (Bleaching canvas was presumably a familiar drudgery back in the age of sails.)

Analects of Confusius, Book 2.

The Master said, "At fifteen, I had my mind bent on learning.

"At thirty, I stood firm.

"At forty, I had no doubts.

"At fifty, I knew the decrees of Heaven.

"At sixty, my ear was an obedient organ for the reception of truth.

"At seventy, I could follow what my heart desired, without transgressing what was right."

Confusius died at the age of 74 according to one history book (or 71-72 according to Wikipedia). Was it worth it? I think so.

When someone is transformed into his highest aspiration, something is created that transcends time. That's what I mean when I say, you have to open the present to open the future and the past. The only way to make our past better is by making progress in the "reception of truth", so that the things that made no sense begin to make sense.

I hope to also live to an age where I can follow what my heart desires, in every way, without transgressing. But in any case, whenever our journey comes to its end, I believe we will not regret a single step of it. We may however regret the steps we did not take. In fact, I do that pretty much each night.

"There is plenty of love"

This morning as I was slowly waking up, I was lamenting the lack of love in the world and particularly in my contribution to the world. At least, I said to myself, I have heard of God. Where would an atheist get love from? There are limits to how much love you can make, after all.

"There is plenty of love" said the voice in my heart. "Everyone has lots of it. But much of it is misguided: You love your own desires, or attachments, rather than other people. The old classics like lust and gluttony, sure, but in this age people particularly love status, or respect. If they worked as tirelessly for others as they now work to be recognized, respected and looked up to, the world would be overflowing with love. Just like everyone has got a certain number of hours a day, so each has got a certain amount of love, but it too can be wasted on yourself."

There is more to this, like, once your love runs in the right direction, its quality can still be improved. But this is a start, to recognize that everyone loves, but to a large degree we love "in the wrong direction", toward ourselves rather than toward others.

St Teresa the Awesome

Awesome! That is my first impression of Saint Teresa of Avila. I recently got a mail from Amazon.com recommending her book, "The Interior Castle". Since that is a concept which I have thought and written occasionally over the last couple years, in my more touristly than saintly way, I was intrigued.

(I first saw the concept of an interior castle in a Japanese martial arts TV series and it struck me as profoundly true. I have not taken much interest in Catholic literature until just lately, since Catholic countries suck.)

I have a problem with St Teresa's work. The problem is that I stop at the beginning and don't want to go on, because her words are so awesome I just want to stop and read them again and laugh with joy at the brightness of it all. I can only hope this improves further into the book. Probably, since it is supposedly for the most part about things that are too high and holy for me at this time. But the beginning. Whoa.

Would it not be gross ignorance, my daughters, if, when a man was questioned about his name, or country, or parents, he could not answer? Stupid as this would be, it is unspeakably more foolish to care to learn nothing of our nature except that we possess bodies, and only to realize vaguely that we have souls, because people say so and it is a doctrine of faith.

St Teresa, where have you been all my life?

(PS: The book is available for free download elsewhere, legally, being out of copyright for centuries.)

At home and work, as it is done in Heaven

I began to think: Should we not strive to make each our own country "God's own country"? And not in a tribal or warlike sense, but a theocracy (God-rule) of the heart, by each of us pointing the compass needle of our mind toward the highest spiritual entity of which we can conceive. (This will necessarily vary from person to person, even within the same religion or philosophy. Your God is greater than my God if and in so far as the love and purity that flows from God through you is greater.) And then, with our mind so ordered, seek to promote the happiness of all, on Earth as it is done in Heaven. For there is no doubt, is there, that Heaven is a place of immense, overwhelming blessing upon every soul that abides there? Or do you think the angels or the saints fly around whacking each other with a rulebook and scolding: "You must do better!"

If there must be a Hell, let it be of their own creation who reside there. We are hardly obliged to add anything to it. Not even a single word. (Sometimes hard words need to be said, in exceptional circumstances, but only when they are meant to cause happiness in the end, and as soon as possible.)

World without end

I live in a far greater world than I used to,a world which I fear is beyond the imagination of my old friends. And surrounding my world are even greater worlds, in which the world where I live is like a bubble. This is the nature of the universe. It has not only quantities but also qualities, and we can hold only so much, each of us. The limit of the world is set by the limit of each mind. What you perceive to be the limit is not the limit of the universe, but of your mind. In the timeless words of Solar: “We fail to imagine and are punished with reality.” (Namely with a smaller, more meager reality that we think is it all.)