02019-06-12 | Ottmar, Philosophy
The following is a post from September 2009, slightly edited:
Time has changed, or should I say our perception of time and especially our use of time has evolved. A long time ago we used to say “I’ll see you in Spring,” then we might have said “I’ll see you at the beginning of the third moon,” which became “I’ll wait for you during the second week of the seventh month,” until we arrived here: “I’ll meet you at 6:15, and don’t be late – I’ll only wait 10 minutes.”
The grid has narrowed, from a year to a nanosecond, and the hatch-marks are so close now that we can barely distinguish them. if your watch slows just a little bit you miss your appointment – unless you are a doctor: they are ALWAYS late for your appointment.
Is time an eternal and infinite and mysterious NOW or is it this finely hatched grid we have superimposed?
Of course it is both. The present moment versus measured time is also poetry versus data, which is also beauty versus information, or being versus having…
The moment, that now is poetry. The grid we superimpose is data. And isn’t that we seem to do to everything? Aren’t we choking all beauty with our grids, our data? Music and books have lost their magical beauty and have been reduced to data files and streams. Is it a teeter-totter that swings back and forth? Now towards poetry, now towards data? After these decades of reduction, will decades of expansion follow?
And that thought brings me to this: what do we need to change, what can we change?
Perhaps we can sometimes choose walking and biking over driving, like choosing to vacation in an area we can discover on foot or bicycle, as opposed to doing ten cities in two weeks. Perhaps we can discover ways to counteract the tightening noose of time that we are ourselves superimposing on our world. If we can insert a little space into our time, little balloons of NOW, those spaces will act like airbags in cars that save us from a collision… they will create little bubbles within the tightening net of measured time.
02009-09-05 | Photos
New login password for the Backstage on Monday!
The following is not a music post. It belongs in the category “Journal”. If you are here for the music only, you can avoid these posts by going to this URL.
Took a walk yesterday Morning. Arrived at my destination a little too late and the green chile croissants were already sold out. Had a Pain Au Chocolat instead. Wrote most of this (((using Evernote on iPhone))) in the cafe, while sipping coffee and eating the croissant.
The space I talked about in Friday’s re-broadcast is time. Time has changed, or rather, our perception of time and especially our use of time has evolved. At some point (((a long time ago))) we used to say “I’ll see you in Spring,” later we might have said “I’ll see you at the beginning of the third moon,” which became “I’ll wait for you during the second week of the seventh month,” until we arrived here: “I’ll meet you at 6:15, and don’t be late – I’ll only wait five minutes.”
The grid has narrowed, from a year to a nanosecond (one billionth of a second), and the hatch-marks are so close now, we can barely distinguish them. If your watch slows just a little bit you miss your appointment – unless you are a doctor: they are always late for your appointment.
Is time an eternal and infinite and mysterious NOW or is it this finely hatched grid we superimposed? Like body and clothes, perhaps? Of course it is both. Something I wrote in the email-interview on Thursday stuck with me: poetry versus data (((maybe that is also beauty versus information or being versus having?))).
The moment, this now is poetry. The grid we superimpose is data. And isn’t that what is happening to everything? Aren’t we choking beauty with our grids, our data? Music (((and soon books))) have lost their magical beauty and have been reduced to bits, data files and streams. Is it a teeter-totter (((like so many things in life))) that swings back and forth… now towards poetry, now towards data? After these decades of reduction, will decades of expansion follow?
I think we can choose walking and biking over cars, we can choose to vacation in an area we can discover on foot or bicycle, as opposed to doing ten cities in two weeks – many of us have to do that for work already, so why do it for leisure also. We can find ways to counteract the tightening noose of time that we are ourselves superimposing on our world. We can insert space into our time, little balloons of NOW, like airbags in cars that save us from a collision with the dragnet of self-imposed time.
Maybe that’s enjoying a cup of tea or coffee in the morning, before you open up your laptop or read the newspaper. For me meditation is such a buffer. Sometimes my brain begs to keep working and does not want to relax into ininity. Sometimes it wins, but mostly it doesn’t. My gut knows better!
Later, during the walk home, this came to mind:
Sentient beings are numberless, I vow to save them.
That’s the first of four Bodhisattva vows. Here is another version.
But that’s impossible, or is it? Numberless… that’s infinite
I should print a t-shirt that shows this little formula (((I know it is a nonsense formula, but it would be fun to see who gets it))):
Infinity (numberless) divided by X, which is NOW or awareness or dropping body-mind or freeing or saving or whatever works for you equals one divided by X. When we multiply both sides with X, which is the action to be accomplished (((I hear the ancient voices say… nothing to do and nothing to accomplish))), we eliminate X and what remains is this: numberless equals one. You, me, the world. All one. All saved when you are saved.
And isn’t it interesting that we have to move the goal-post of sentience continually? We keep discovering that more animals are sentient according to our own definitions – so we change the definition… I wonder whether someday we will arrive at the same understanding many old tribal cultures had, that the entire world, every animal, plant and rock, is sentient. See this:
Until recently, humans were thought to be the only species to experience complex emotions and have a sense of morality. But Prof Marc Bekoff, an ecologist at University of Colorado, Boulder, believes that morals are “hard-wired” into the brains of all mammals and provide the “social glue” that allow often aggressive and competitive animals to live together in groups.
Today I woke up at 05:15. I uploaded the second half of the “Under the Rose” album, which you can find here. By 06:45 I was at Aspen Vista at 9,500 feet and started hiking up to about 11,600 feet. Here are some images from my walk:
02009-03-01 | Uncategorized
I usually sit in the afternoon or late at night, but today I sat zazen at 08:00. They say one should not sit zazen with closed eyes unless one has at least 15 years of zazen experience. I have practiced zazen for 5 years but have been meditating for 35, and so I allow myself to close my eyes about half of the 40 minutes I sit every day. I only do it when I am wide awake, so I don’t fall asleep. When the conditions are good, meaning that I am relaxed and yet alert, I will close my eyes and sometimes that’s just pure bliss. Mind, calm like a lake without wind and yet ready for any splash in the water. Timeless.
William Gibson
A MILLION SECONDS IS 11 DAYS
A billion seconds is 32 years.
A trillion seconds is 32,000 years.
I have crossed the 1,500,000,000 second threshhold. It looks like a lot and it feels like nothing.
Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly.
Suddenly I awoke.
Now, I do not know whether I was then
a man dreaming I was a butterfly,
or whether I am now a butterfly
dreaming that I am a man.
– Chuang Tzu (c.360 BC – c. 275 BC)
Here is a different translation:
I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke.
Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly,
or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?
I rode my fixie to Downtown Subscription for a green chile croissant and a coffee. Must ask David @ Mellow Velo about getting a slightly larger cog, maybe just +1T.
More time-lapse photography. I am hunting moving shadows around the house. The camera takes one photo every 9 seconds. Odd noise to have around.
Tomato – Tomato:
Zhuangzi
Author:
The first seven chapters of the text, often called the Inner Chapters, are generally attributed to Zhuang Zhou (Chuang Chou), who, according to legend, lived in what is now known as Honan from approximately 370-286 BC. The rest of the text is often understood to contain fragments of material, some of which are sometimes attributed to the same author as the Inner Chapters, some of which are attributed to other authors, including representatives of the Yangzhu (Yang Chu) tradition. For the sake of convenience, this article will refer to the author and/or authors of the text simply as Zhuangzi.
Chuang Tzu AKA Zhuangzi AKA Zhuang Zhou AKA Chuang Chou AKA Yangzhu AKA Yang Chu?
And:
You are the butterfly,
And I the dreaming heart
Of Soshi
– Basho
Soshi is the Japanese name for Chuang Tzu.
Thanks Y.
02009-03-01 | Uncategorized
William Gibson
A MILLION SECONDS IS 11 DAYS
A billion seconds is 32 years.
A trillion seconds is 32,000 years.
I have crossed the 1,500,000,000 second threshhold. It looks like a lot and it feels like nothing.
Once upon a time, I dreamt I was a butterfly.
Suddenly I awoke.
Now, I do not know whether I was then
a man dreaming I was a butterfly,
or whether I am now a butterfly
dreaming that I am a man.
– Chuang Tzu (c.360 BC – c. 275 BC)
Here is a different translation:
I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke.
Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly,
or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?
