Category: Metaphysics

The Evolution of Multidimensionality

Posted on by japineda

Scientists root the concept of dimensions in the idea of describing space. However, the scientific sense of space as an “extended” void with dimensions did not arise until well into the 17th century; not until Galileo and Descartes made space the cornerstone of modern physics as something physical with a geometry. By the end of the 17th century, Isaac Newton had expanded the vision to encompass the entire universe, which now became a potentially infinite three-dimensional vacuum.

Interestingly, it was the work of artists several hundred years earlier that foresaw and likely undergirded this scientific breakthrough. In the 14th to 16th centuries, Giotto, Paolo Uccello and Piero della Francesca developed the techniques of what came to be known as perspective—a style originally termed “geometric figuring.” By exploring geometric principles, these painters gradually learned how to draw images of objects in three-dimensional space. By doing so, they reprogrammed European minds to see space in a Euclidean fashion.

Descartes’ contribution was to make images of mathematical relations and formalize the concept of a “dimension.” He did it in terms of a rectangular grid marked with an x and y axis, and a coordinate system. The Cartesian plane is a two-dimensional space because we need only two coordinates to identify any point within it. With this framework, Descartes linked geometric shapes and equations. Thus, we can describe a circle with a radius of 1 by the equation x2 + y2 =1. Later, this framework became the basis for the calculus developed by Isaac Newton and G W Leibniz.

How does this concept of space affect our lived experience? Imagine living in a Cartesian two-dimensional world in which you are only aware of length and width. You see two objects approach each other at tremendous speed in this flat-plane world. The inevitable outcome will be a crash, you think. When nothing happens and the two objects appear to pass through each other untouched and continue on the other side, you think—it’s a miracle!

The Cartesian plane makes it easy to imagine adding another axis (x, y, z), which now allows us the ability to describe the surface of a sphere (x2 + y2 + z2 = 1) and thus describe forms in three-dimensional space.

Imagine that you are now seeing the same two objects coming towards each other, but able to see them in three dimensions, not only length and width, but also depth. You see the two objects, which are planes, approach each other at tremendous speed. But because you can see that one is significantly above the other, you know they are safe. It is patently obvious and definitely not a miracle there is no crash. All because you can see into this third dimension.

In 1905, an unknown physicist named Albert Einstein published a paper describing the real world as a four-dimensional setting. In his “special theory of relativity,” Einstein added time to the three classical dimensions of space. Scientists mathematically accommodated this new idea easily since all one has to do is add a new “time” coordinate axis within the Cartesian framework.

Events in our world seem to occur in four dimensions (length, width, depth, and time) and we can see into all of them. Hence, when the same two objects, which we recognize as planes, approach each other at tremendous speed and at the same height, there would be a crash, except the two planes are flying in the same space but at different times. Again, it is obvious there is no crash because of our ability to perceive differences in time. This ability, to see in four dimensions, makes interactions between objects appear natural and obvious, whereas for those seeing in fewer dimensions, they would seem miraculous or paradoxical.

Einstein’s Theory of General Relativity says we live in four dimensions. String Theory, developed in the 1960s, in contrast, says it’s at least 10. In 1919, Theodor Kaluza discovered that adding a fifth dimension to Einstein’s equations could account for the interactions of both electromagnetism and gravity, the fundamental forces that govern how objects or particles interact. The problem was that, unlike the previous four, this fifth dimension did not relate directly to our sensory experience. It was just there in the mathematics. More recently, String Theory scientists have shown that an additional five dimensions account for weak and strong nuclear forces, the two additional fundamental forces of nature. Thus, with 10 dimensions, String Theory can account for ALL the fundamental forces and ALL their interactions. Unfortunately, we have no way of relating our lived experience to this mathematical multidimensional accountability.

We look out at our complex world and try to figure out why accidents happen? Why do young people die? What makes voters attracted to certain ideas? Why do we fall in love with this person and not that one? Why does only one person survive a plane crash? From our human perspective, these are difficult to answer and even incomprehensible questions because we don’t have full insight into the dimensions at work creating the dynamics of these interactions. If we did, it would be as obvious as the sun rising every morning.

Today we know physical interactions result from information exchanged by fundamental particles known as bosons, and mathematically accounted for in 4-D space by Einstein’s equations. Experiments with bosons, however, suggest there may be forms of matter and energy vital to the cosmos that are not yet known to science. There may, in fact, be additional fundamental forces of nature and distinct dimensions of information.

Indeed, different exchanges of information mediate human interactions. These involve intangible dimensions of unity, beauty, sociality, persistence, love, entanglement, etc. Information in these dimensions affects social interactions and relates more directly to our life. Imagine, for example, two individuals running at each other at full speed and crashing. Without contextual information, how do you understand the action? Is it two angry opponents on a battlefield trying to kill one another? Or, is it two players on opposite teams tackling one another in a game of American football? Knowing the intangible dimensions of the interaction and the information provided gives us an obvious answer.

Preliminary attempts by psychologist Sarah Hoppler and her colleagues (2022) give us hope that a combination of factors can describe social encounters. These researchers have identified six dimensions (actor, partner, relation, activities, context, and evaluation) with three levels of abstraction, based on how people describe their social interactions. They have shown their approach to depict and account for all conceivable sorts of situations in social interactions, irrespective of whether described abstractly or in great detail.

It might be useful, therefore, to ask whether there are limits to our comprehension of additional dimensions of information? Science tells us that physical dimensions may be so tiny and fleeting that we currently can’t detect them. However, in terms of intangible sources of the human experience, we may not be as helpless. We can sense and intentionally improve some of these dimensions (love, sociality, persistence); others we sense and learn to appreciate (beauty, unity); but a vast majority are, for now, still beyond our comprehension (entanglement).

We are still discovering, evolving, and quantifying the full capacity of our human experience. If we accept Pierre Teilhard de Chardin’s statement that “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience,” then the voyage of discovery of our multidimensional nature is unlimited and ought to be infinitely enjoyable.

A Content-Addicted Culture

Posted on by japineda

We live in an exceedingly rich information culture. Indeed, the amount of information exceeds the capacity of our individual brains to process it by orders of magnitude. Not only is factual-based scientific information being collected at prodigious rates, but the amount of non-factual disinformation created by our culture matches its rate. Reality-based information and its imaginary counterpart are apparently not sufficient content providers, for we are now considering developing a metaverse—a universe of infinite made-up possibilities. While human imagination is a source of all these creative outbursts, problems occur when there are no boundaries to its unconstrained nature, no checks on counterfactual thinking, no testing to see whether ideas are true. When we think up stuff and assume it is real, it creates the singular psychological basis for human suffering. Humans have known this insight for thousands of years and yet we march on, like a devastating tsunami obliterating everything on its path or like lemmings on our way to our own destruction.

The driving energy behind this is a mind that lives in scarcity, that is constantly dissatisfied, always searching for more to fill a bottomless emptiness. It is this unfulfilled emptiness that makes us addicted to information, to the content of what our mind can experience. For, while we attend to this content, it prevents us from looking at the core of this emptiness. Such a possibility seems too frightening to consider and so we develop more and more content to distract us. The American social scientist Herbert Simon wrote: “The wealth of information means a dearth of something else—a scarcity of whatever information consumes. What information consumes is rather obvious: it consumes the attention of its recipients.”

Human attention comes in short supply, and when the information it consumes overwhelms it, there is nothing left to attend to our unfulfilled nature. The only antidote to this devastating tsunami of human experience is to become quieter and more intentional. A time of silence occurs when we stop furiously examining the content of our conscious mind. What we discover when we turn from noise to silence is that what we feared, the emptiness we felt, is not really the bogey man we envisioned, but a unique source of nourishment unlike anything ever experienced. We briefly touch what Christ called “the living water” or others refer to as the “I AM.” Silence is one of the few remaining ways we express a widespread, shared experience of sacredness.

The more we drink from this silent emptiness, this living water, the less dissatisfied we become, the less we are interested in the content of our consciousness. Instead, we become more interested in that which contains it all: consciousness itself. We lose our addiction to information, and at the very end of such a process, we identify with the silence itself, which, in fact, contains everything.

Human Interconnectedness: Billiard Balls or Gooey Chocolate?

Posted on by japineda

Most of us are quite aware of how connected we are. This awareness has produced several ways to think about, describe, or view this connectivity. The ideas run the gamut from highly interconnected to loosely so. The extent to which the internet has made us aware of these relationships, with more people and more information from around the world, it has become front of mind. Since how we think about nature structures our reality of it, it seems necessary to reconsider how we might view our connections to others.

Many people view these interactions from the perspective that we are more like billiard balls that inevitably come in contact with other billiard balls as we run around the world doing our thing. It recalls the classic view of the structure of reality at the atomic level. That matter comprises extremely tiny particles called atoms originated about 2500 years ago by Democritus, a Greek philosopher. However, the idea was forgotten for approximately 2000 years. Then, at the beginning of the 19th century, the English chemist John Dalton brought back Democritus’ ancient idea of the atom. Dalton thought atoms were the smallest particles of matter and envisioned them as solid, hard spheres, like billiard balls. Currently, matter as energy, electron clouds, or probability waves have replaced the old billiard ball model of matter.

Yet, the classic notion of matter has affected our conceptualization of human interactions. We view the inevitable result of human billiard balls making contact and colliding as producing change, but namely to redirect or reorient our own trajectory. If the impact is great, it may cause emotions to engage and the interactions can rise to another level. Even at this level, we think that our internal environment remains unchanged, except perhaps for a brief flash of exasperation, anger, or resentment.

As the collisions become greater and more pronounced, we may acknowledge that the changes stay with us for a while, perhaps even a lifetime. The accepted modern paradigm to describe this dynamic is what I characterize as independent arising. Each of us is seen as an independent agent, a billiard ball, exerting control over what we experience. Thus, what we feel and how we respond depends on our own mind, allowing itself to experience and determine our actions. There is a level of autonomy, control, and agency we attribute to our behavior.

This model, however, is incomplete and does not explain all of human behavior. Therefore, it is time to recognize alternative explanations. One of these is that we may be more like balls of gooey chocolate when we encounter and collide with others. When we do, we leave a trace—sometimes messy, sometimes not. Therefore, it isn’t unusual to hear someone say, “I needed a shower after meeting that person.” The psychic residue of our interactions can affect our internal being, our psyche and spirit, and can be difficult to wash off. I characterize this as dependent arising.

A sophisticated description of this idea is the doctrine of dependent arising, which stands at the heart of Buddhist doctrine. It describes the principle of conditionality or the links that arise between experiences. My simple understanding of this doctrine is that these links and our experience of those links arise dependent on every other circumstance we encounter. They arise because we have a body, emotional reactivity, perceive incoming sensory information, conceptualize such information, and develop a conscious awareness of these experiences. Or, to put it in more modern terms, we are born with a body whose function is to create connections and links between experiences, add emotional valence, and reflect on them.

Martin Luther King Jr. captured the point I want to emphasize about our deep interconnectedness in what he expressed about injustice. He said, “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.” The concept of interbeing introduced by Thich Nhat Hanh also reflects our deep interconnectedness, where everything relies on everything else in order to manifest. Likewise, biologists describe how our human bodies are shared, rented, and occupied by countless other tiny organisms, without whom we couldn’t “move a muscle, drum a finger, or think a thought.” Indeed, our body is comprised of trillions of bacteria, viruses, and other such organisms. Without them, we wouldn’t be able to operate, think, feel, or speak. In fact, the analogy applies to the entire planet, which can be conceived as one giant breathing entity, with all its working parts connected in symbiosis.

We are not separate entities or exist independently, but are a continuation of one another, as Thich Nhat Hanh has argued. This garment of symbiotic mutuality that we represent gives a different perspective on what it means to be in a relationship with others. It thus calls for a rethinking of how much agency, control, and independence we actually have and to structure our spiritual path accordingly. By spiritual I mean a recognition of the validity and impact of our deep interconnectedness.

A Universe in a Grain of Sand

Posted on by japineda
Webb’s first deep field image, showing the galaxy cluster SMACS 0723 as it was approximately 13 billion years ago. Credit…NASA, ESA, CSA, and STScI
Auguries of Innocence
BY WILLIAM BLAKE
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower 
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 
And Eternity in an hour.

It is, we are told, a grain-of-sand view,
A heavenly purview,
This fish-bowl image of the universe.
A James Webb telescopic picture of the sky.
Unfolding before us this morning in July.

A myriad galaxies, with myriads of stars.
Far from our own galaxy, Jupiter, and Mars.
So striking in their beauty and mystery.
So incomprehensibly comprehensible
So indispensably dispensable.

It feels godlike to hold infinity in one’s mind,
And glimpse eternity in a single frame.
These may be the auguries of innocence,
As Blake said so long ago,
Brought about by human intent, though.

This unique view of the face of God.
Both mystical and real.
Is at once natural and surreal.
I cannot comprehend the distances shown,
Nor guess the mysteries of this unknown.

I cannot fathom something so sublime,
Nor understand the compressed time.
I cannot grasp the science at its source,
Nor know the future course.
I see excitement and giddiness
In those who brought it into being.
As they grasp the future they’re foreseeing.

It’s a doorway to a playground
Of future possibilities,
Of unlimited capabilities and imagination,
Of contact with other civilizations.
A fresh dawning for the human mind,
Offering a new path for humankind.

The Pale Blue Dot

Posted on by japineda

By Carl Sagan

Consider again that dot. 
That's here. That's home. That's us. 
On it everyone you love, 
Everyone you know, 
Everyone you ever heard of, 
Every human being who ever was, 
Lived out their lives. 
The aggregate of our joy and suffering, 
Thousands of confident religions, 
Ideologies, and economic doctrines, 
Every hunter and forager, 
Every hero and coward, 
Every creator and destroyer of civilization, 
Every king and peasant, 
Every young couple in love, 
Every mother and father, 
Hopeful child, inventor and explorer, 
Every teacher of morals, 
Every corrupt politician, 
Every 'superstar', 
Every 'supreme leader', 
Every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – 
On a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

Sagan’s beautiful statement was occasioned by seeing the photograph of the earth in space as a pale blue dot. I read it recently and affected me as only beautiful poetry can. It also reminded me of what Harold Ramis, American actor, comedian, director, and writer, said about carrying two notes to remind you of who you are. The first note reads, “The universe was created for my delight.” The second note says, “I am a meaningless speck of dust in the vastness of the universe.”

Ramis’s point was that life occurs in the rhythmic oscillation between these opposite poles, of meaningfulness and meaninglessness. The rhythmic oscillation of this dance occurs outside and within your conscious awareness, but in either case, you are a participant.

Nisargadatta Maharaj, an Indian guru, offered a similar sentiment when he said, “Between looking inside and recognizing that I am nothing and seeing outside and recognizing that I am everything–my life turns.”

You, me, the earth and everyone else born in this speck of dust are both nothing and everything.  

Jumpstarting the Mind to “Wake Up”

Posted on by japineda
This essay discusses jumpstarting the mind to wake up psychologically and spiritually. I extracted parts from my upcoming book, Transforming Anxiety Into Creativity.

Many scholars who study the mind describe individuals as having an original sense of wholeness, or self. As a child, this sense of self is active, adaptable, energetic, curious, and creative. It is unencumbered by problems, with an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions. Along the way, we develop an ego, and living a joyful, stress-free, and fear-free life turns problematic. We experience worries, anxieties, uninhibited thoughts, fears, overwhelming feelings, and seeing no way out of difficult circumstances. When these negative experiences persist and affect our mood, thinking, and behavior, they disrupt the normal flow, joy, and unity of life and obscure its natural wonder. When the interruptions and disruptions become unmanageable, they are the basis for physical and mental disorders, autoimmune and emotional disturbances, heart problems, addictive behaviors, and suicidal ideation. Even worse, if negative ideations become a recurring issue, the inevitable consequence is psychopathology.

What is the source of this problem? The major reason seems to be that out of the original unity to which we are born, a separate ego crystallizes during development. Individuation or ego-self differentiation is a normal aspect of development, but the schism between what is real and what is not creates problems when not understood. Ego creates an illusion of separation, as it emerges from the normal push-pull dynamics of resisting and accepting what life presents. Many justified reasons, including our initial dependency and the potential harm negative experiences have on an immature mind, make our tendency to resist life more prevalent than our acceptance of it. Over time, resistance becomes stronger, reified, and real to the point we identify it as our true self and as our exclusive response to life.

Numerous solutions to the ego-self differentiation problem have been put forth from behavioral, psychological, and spiritual perspectives. The most enduring solutions are those that help us understand the source of the conflict and, from that point of view, its solution. In my book, Transforming Anxiety into Creativity, I recognize and understand the problem by combining a neuroscience background with a personal understanding of the mind based on knowledge and experience with Zen Buddhism. The solutions I present are easy to understand and available. Yet, they are difficult to put into action, as they call for a genuine change in perception and awareness.

What is the principal message? That awakening and self-realization are psychological and spiritual solutions to ego-self differentiation. From a spiritual viewpoint, awakening or “waking up” refers to understanding one’s true nature, the unity of life, and our role in this greater sense of connection. It means you wake up from the illusion, the dream-like experience in which you feel separated from life, to the recognition that you are and always have been integrated with it. This recognition of unity is a remembrance, a going back to what you once knew.

Far too few people recognize the source of their mental suffering and the ability they have to do something about it. As Henry David Thoreau put it, “The mass of men leads lives of quiet desperation.” Likewise, many descriptions of the spiritual awakening experience are too confusing to be helpful. These descriptions, however, boil down to the notion that one must first recognize “that belief in my thoughts is not in any way definitive of my true inner self.” This simple yet powerful insight starts the process of de-identification with the egoic mind.

When de-identification takes hold and you can honestly say, “I don’t believe that thought,” it is like the sudden giving way to the bottom of a pail of water. The filters through which the world is experienced are metaphorically cleared and cleansed. Your ego or “I” momentarily disappears in a rush of awareness, liberated from identification with resistance to life. The expansive consciousness, obscured by the limited ego, is suddenly liberated and appreciated. You become conscious of being conscious and encounter unlimited awareness. The experience brings a sense of freshness to the wonder of sense perception and of who you are.

This awakening experience is a process, one that can be gradual (including multiple small awakenings) or fast(er). Neither fast nor slow is better or worse, they only differ in the timing of the changes experienced. Our culture makes us skeptical of fast means since they bring to mind miracle-like processes, with not enough time to understand them. Thus, there is more discussion and focus on slow means. Like seeing a therapist, we recognize it may take a dozen or more years to resolve the issues. Slow solutions, like mindfulness meditation, spiritual study, ethics, and prayer, seem rational, are more likely to lead to a positive outcome, provide longer lasting solutions, require less effort, etc. In reality, our deceptive egoic mind creates these “explanations.” De-identification with thoughts means its own disappearance and so it wisely favors a slower demise. Yet, with one immediate change in perspective, which we are all capable of doing, we can jumpstart the mind to wake up.

Traditions like Yoga, Vedanta and Buddhism agree that the end goal of awakening, or enlightenment, is already here and now, that it is our true nature — or the true nature of reality. Thus, not that we have to achieve or become it, we simply need to remove the obstacles (the egoic mind) to realize its expression. Thus, knowing that you once held this treasure differs from never having had possession of it. So, above all else, the path to awakening requires the conviction that what you aspire to is real, since you once had it. While you may no longer identify with such a mind, you have not lost it, and it is possible to recover. This journey to waking up is a voyage of rediscovery.

The two broad approaches to removing the obstacle of the egoic mind are to either emphasize the need to transform and purify the mind (or even transcend it altogether). This is the gradual approach carried out through practices such as meditation, spiritual study, ethics, devotion, etc. Or, the fast(er) approach, which emphasizes the “already present” aspect of enlightenment. This focuses the teachings more around inquiring into your true nature and simply living in the present with non-attachment.

Living in the present with non-attachment provides an immediate doorway for a return to the extraordinary mind you once had, the one associated with a joyful and creative life. This is not a novel idea, but there are now science-based explanations for why such a switch works. Bringing attention to the immediacy of the moment changes the focus of attention from the mind’s ruminations of the past and future to the awareness of present circumstances and holding such thoughts in awareness. Nonattachment means not getting emotionally involved with the thoughts, but observing each mental dustup that arises without judgment. This is the most important action to implement. When done correctly, living in the present with non-attachment stops anxious, unmanageable thoughts in their tracks. The effect is immediate and, with practice, long-lasting.

That turning point, a longer-lasting experience of the present moment, marks the awakening experience and a recognition of the original unity you once had. It is a rebirth in which you find yourself childlike, but with greater appreciation. The opportunity for true living opens up—an ability to see things as they really are, without resisting them, and a genuine enjoyment of life.

If you have questions, direct them to: jpineda@ucsd.edu.  

Moments of Perfection

Posted on by japineda

There are moments in life when we encounter, however briefly, something unexpected, beautiful, perfect, beyond description, in which we sense a larger beingness. We feel at the edge of a precipice transfixed, but connected to that larger sense of ourselves. I call these moments of perfection, wrapped in glory. Sometimes the overwhelming emotion can be positive but it need not be. It is, however, unforgettable. The following are my flash-bulb memories of some of those events in my life. I encourage anyone with such memories to share a short-version of them with me so that I can post on the blog.

Individuation

Although most of my life as a 3-year-old remains shrouded in mist, I vividly recall the day when I became a separate, distinct individual. Until then, I had no awareness of a separate me, only of an undifferentiated consciousness. That auspicious day, I recall wanting to play, but my 5-year-old sister Nora did not, and in that instant, shattered my world. It suddenly dawned on me, more a feeling than a conceptual understanding, that she and I were distinct, with different thoughts. It was, as I would later characterize it, a “crack in the cosmic egg of my existence.” Individuation is a normal process we all go through, but few remember. Psychologists call it the development of a theory of mind, referring to the ability to distinguish our self from others and to know others can think different thoughts. The unexpected and earth-shattering aware-feeling of becoming separate from those close to me produced a deep sadness in my young mind. It made me feel very alone in a large universe.

Going to the Moon

We were inseparable, doing everything together, including fighting like brothers. On a sunny day, when we were both four years old, we went to the moon. Hector lived next door and had become my best friend. I don’t recall how we chose our target, but the adventure did not seem beyond our childish imaginations. There was a small bed in the corridor that faced the backyard of my house, which we commandeered as our spaceship. On launch day, we sat side by side with me as pilot and Hector as co-pilot. Suddenly, the engines roared, and we were off. We took control of the ship and pointed it towards the silver silhouette in the sky. My eyes fixated on that silver moon and, ever so slowly, perceived us getting closer and closer. It seemed like the afternoon dragged on for hours as the size of our target grew bigger and bigger. I have never been able to see the “face” on the moon, but on that day I could see the craters on the surface as clearly as if only a few hundred feet above them. It was thrilling beyond words.

Finding My Way Home

I started undergraduate life at UCLA as a math major since I had done well in the subject in high school. But it quickly became apparent I did not know what I wanted to study, and switched to Engineering, then Premed, and Sociology. It did not help my confidence to be surrounded by kids much smarter than me. I struggled to get through freshman chemistry, earning a passing grade. In contrast, a friend got an ‘A’ even though he rarely studied because the material did not challenge him enough. I remember sitting side by side in class, feeling disheartened and depressed. Such feelings accompanied me to every class during that first fall and winter quarters. In spring, I enrolled in Introduction to Psychology and things took a different turn. That first day proved foreboding as I walked into a semi-circular auditorium holding 500 students, all talking at once. I settled down on a seat at the top of the auditorium, fortunate to have found one. For five minutes, I waited for the class to start. Then, a young, short-hair male with glasses and sandals, who I assumed to be the professor, approached the podium. The loud noise settled down from a roar to a murmur and then complete silence, as if a disk jockey had turned down the dial on loud music. Maybe it was the deep and mellow tenor of his voice or his charm, but soon enough, I lost track of everyone around me. Everyone literally disappeared, and I became mesmerized by the professor’s voice and stories. I had stopped thinking and just listened–totally fascinated by what he said. At the end of the class and while the auditorium emptied, I felt disoriented. What had just happened? After a few seconds, I experienced a warm feeling and a sense I had stumbled upon what had been missing. It felt like I had found my way home after being lost, and a sense of gratitude, excitement, and a budding awareness that I now knew what I needed to do. I would major in psychology.

Snow in Frankfurt

It was the weekend and time to head downtown, to an area called Sachsenhausen, a part of the old town with a mix of late-night bars, clubs, and restaurants. I had been in Frankfurt, Germany, stationed at Rhein-Main Air Force Base for only a few months. The old town was a special hangout for US airmen during our time off. The coldness of winter gripped me as I pulled my light jacket tighter while waiting for the bus. In Sachsenhausen, my friends and I gathered at the Drop-IN club where we danced with German fräuleins, drank, laughed, and relaxed from our weekly chores. Around midnight, l headed home by myself feeling happy and light-headed. I stepped off the bus stop to switch to the one headed to the air base and sat on the bench to wait. I knew it would only be a few minutes, given the punctual nature of German public transportation. As I sat there, alone on a quiet night, during the bewitching hour, it snowed. I had never experienced a snow fall and as I looked up at the sky, the most beautiful pattern of white particles against a dark sky descended on me as if in slow motion. It was mesmerizing and for a long moment, time stood still, as I sat there watching and feeling blessed by God.

The Oscillation Between Mediocrity and Uniqueness

Posted on by japineda

Cal Ag/EyeEm/EyeEm Premium / Getty
I wish to be relevant.
I do not want my ashes
In the dustbin of history.
It is a terrifying thought!

To be invisible,
To be irrelevant,
Unable to add
To the human enterprise.

Amid a pandemic,
This consuming hunger
And accompanying fear,
Rears its head.

As I shelter at home
And avoid the world,
I feel less able to add
To the human existence.

The existential crisis grows.
My insignificance is clear.
I have no ground to stand on
And I disappear.

Then, out of the ashes,
Something new is reborn.
With a new relevancy,
The relevancy of being.

Nothing to do,
Nothing to be,
No more,
No less.

This poem captures two worlds colliding in my mind at the moment. One is the world of my ego in which I am feeling distressed at being ordinary, not standing out from the crowd, being ignored by my peers and others as uninteresting or unimportant, and not having done enough to make the world a better place. I compare myself to others and find myself inadequate, as if something is missing in my personality and competence. I feel a void in the pit of my stomach, and the state of “mediocrity” becomes a frightening possibility. Like the sword of Damocles, my ego obsesses with the sense that this state of being is about to drop into my soul any minute. And I dread the thought and the feelings it engenders, namely that I will recognize this as my true nature. I recognize I rooted such fear in my development, with high expectations and a lifelong effort to excel academically and in other spheres of life. In contrast, I occasionally oscillate to another sense – that of contentment, of being special, when thinking disappears, and the world seems absolutely perfect.

This oscillation between mediocrity and uniqueness, being special and not reminds me of what Harold Ramis, a well-known American actor, comedian, director, and writer, said about carrying two notes to remind you of who you are. The first note should read, “The universe was created for my delight.” The second note should say, “I am a meaningless speck of dust in the vastness of the universe.” His point was that life occurs in the rhythmic oscillation between these two opposite poles. Living happens between meaningfulness and meaninglessness, between creative and mundane living. The rhythmic oscillation of this dance occurs both outside and within conscious awareness, but in either case, we are participants. Nisargadatta Maharaj, an Indian guru, offered something similar. He said, “Between looking inside and recognizing that I am nothing and seeing outside and recognizing that I am everything–my life turns.” You, me, and everyone else are both nothing and everything; both special and not.

So, why do I yearn for uniqueness? To be special? And for whom is all this mental anguish and activity for? Psychologically, it is my ego’s soulful cry, created by an illusion of separateness, born out of my evolutionary drive for individuality. Spiritually, however, it is the aching sense to be united with my Source.

The Butterfly Effect

Posted on by japineda
A monarch butterfly

              … here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
             i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart) 
                                                            e.e. cummings

What would our world be like if, instead of training the young to value money and material things, they would learn to value truth, creativity, and love? If they could learn to carry the heart of the other in their own heart? Why is such a world only theoretically possible? Obviously, it is the way we have structured rewards and punishment in our dysfunctional society. That money is the basis for purchasing goods and services makes materialism, if not inevitable, then highly likely. Those with the most money get the most toys. But what if goods and services were available regardless of money? What if we rewarded nonmaterial values? We can all imagine a society where hard work, honesty, teamwork could guarantee a child a free high school and college education. Such a society could guarantee a reasonable income and work once they completed their education. Why do we consider these things noble yet highly unlikely to occur? What must we change to move us in that direction?

Let’s begin with the young and the learning they undergo. On the optimistic side, schooling, when done right, is mainly a positive thing. Children learn to be social. They get interested in science. We encourage their curious ways. Whatever goes wrong with this expectation and outcome is correctable without having to rethink what education is. I would even argue that the competition that is fostered in grade school is a good thing as well. Whether in athletics or academics, competition is a healthy motivating force. It goes wrong when it becomes entirely a selfish endeavor, with no consideration for others. Is that the clue to what takes us in the wrong direction?

Some argue that selfishness is a part of human nature; that children are the ultimate narcissists; and unless society counterbalances that drive, things will go awry. If true, then what are the social forces that provide such counterbalancing drives. I would argue that things like church, group associations, a multi-ethnic, diverse culture are important. And what is at the core of what these institutions teach? I would say they teach us empathy; to put ourselves in the shoes of the other; to carry their heart in our own heart. Empathy is the counter to selfishness. Unfortunately, these countervailing forces in society are currently losing authority or producing an unnatural backlash. This is the root of the problem. The lack of a counter to our selfish drive is creating narcissistic individuals not interested in others. Of course, we are talking about massive generational, value- and age-based changes going on in the world. Is there one small thing that can change this inevitable storm?

Some argue that the world is a chaotic, dynamical system. In such a system, the fluttering of a butterfly in South America can have a significant effect on the weather in North America. Perhaps this essence of chaos theory applies to the chaos of social turbulence we are experiencing. Many answers about which behavior would be most effective are possible. But the one that rings most true, and which lies at the root of the root of the answer, is love—unconditional love. Love is empathy in action. Learn to love in this way. Teach others to love without judgment. This small beating of your wings might just change the turbulence you and all of us are experiencing.