Page Not Found
Page not found. Your pixels are in another canvas.
A list of all the posts and pages found on the site. For you robots out there is an XML version available for digesting as well.
Page not found. Your pixels are in another canvas.
About me
This is a page not in th emain menu
Published:
Read this to gain some intuition about the difference between supervised and unsupervised learning.
Published:
Read this to gain some intuition on how generative adversarial networks solve problems.
Published:
This book explores the question of why some regions of the world developed and expanded faster than others.
Published:
A book about psychological truths that we tend to pretend don’t exist but are more or less obvious, much like the saying “the elephant in the room”. Hence the title, the elephant in the brain.
Published:
Published:
This book touches on the recent developments in some American universities, and try to identify some of the causal mechanisms that give rise to the “… new problems on campus, [which] have their origins in three terrible ideas that have become increasingly woven into American childhood and education: What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker; always trust your feelings; and life is a battle between good people and evil people. These three Great Untruths contradict basic psychological principles about well-being and ancient wisdom from many cultures. Embracing these untruths—and the resulting culture of safetyism—interferes with young people’s social, emotional, and intellectual development. It makes it harder for them to become autonomous adults who are able to navigate the bumpy road of life.”
Published:
Published:
• Statistical models consistently outperform - and are much more consistent - than experts in low validity environments. Example: for medical school admissions, adding interviews at the end and giving interviewers the final say of who’s accepted injects bias and uncertainties into the process, and the quality of candidates generally suffers as a result • Questions in an interview should be as objective as possible. It has been shown that scores accumulated from these more objective results can make useful predictions, whereas results based purely on somewhat unstructured interviews aren’t predictive of future success. Objective questions are also better guides for intuitive judgements - which perform on par with the scoring mechanism
Published:
This book sees how religion evolved alongside humans, from hunter gatherer tribes to civilizations. More emphasis on the monotheist Abrahamic religions.
Published:
Published:
This book touches on the recent developments in some American universities, and tries to identify some of the causal mechanisms that give rise to the “… new problems on campus, [which] have their origins in three terrible ideas that have become increasingly woven into American childhood and education: What doesn’t kill you makes you weaker; always trust your feelings; and life is a battle between good people and evil people. These three Great Untruths contradict basic psychological principles about well-being and ancient wisdom from many cultures. Embracing these untruths—and the resulting culture of safetyism—interferes with young people’s social, emotional, and intellectual development. It makes it harder for them to become autonomous adults who are able to navigate the bumpy road of life.”
Published:
A book about psychological truths that we tend to pretend don’t exist but are more or less obvious, much like the saying “the elephant in the room”. Hence the title, the elephant in the brain.
Published:
This book sees how religion evolved alongside humans, from hunter gatherer tribes to civilizations. More emphasis on the monotheist Abrahamic religions.
Published:
Published:
This book explores the question of why some regions of the world developed and expanded faster than others.
Published:
A book about happiness that uses a clever metaphor to describe the conflict between primitive motives and conscious thought.
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Cosmos, Carl Sagan
Published:
Published:
Published:
When encountered with inevitable “loss” (a loved one, youth, etc.), think of it instead as returned. It was never yours in the first place; you don’t own what you can’t control. Be grateful for it while it’s there; accept it when it goes.
Book notes 2022/2023 P1
Published:
Published:
How to create a good habit The 1st Law: Make It Obvious 1.1: Fill out the Habits Scorecard. Write down your current habits to become aware of them. 1.2: Use implementation intentions: “I will (BEHAVIOR] at TIME] in [LOCATION].’ 1.3: Use habit stacking: “After [CURRENT HABIT], I will [NEW HABIT. 1.4: Design your environment. Make the cues of good habits obvious and visible.
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Drunk, Edward Slingerland
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Book notes 2024 p3
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
A fundamental postulate of sociology is that a human institution cannot rest upon error and falsehood; if it did, it could not endure. If it had not been grounded in the nature of things, those very things would hinder its perpetuation.
Disagree. Institutions can rest in falsehood, so long as that falsehood provides an adaptive benefit. In the short term, this can work; it’s true, however, that long term those falsehoods will clash with reality. The human condition itself—the biological condition even—is rested on falsehood: each biological agent acts under the inherent assumption that they—or their offspring—are the most important biological agent there is. Otherwise, they would cease to exist.
“Religious conceptions aim above all to express and explain not what is exceptional and abnormal but what is constant and regular.”
This reminds of an analogy Tolstoy made, where what is remembered by history is that which grabs the most attention (the exceptional and abnormal). History is like a forest, and the attention grabbing stuff is what we see on the horizon of the forest’s surface (the leaves and trunks), and to characterize a forest by its leaves is to miss the dense activity that occurs beneath.
Religions do not require belief in spiritual beings. Consider Buddhism, with its four noble truths: 1) the existence of suffering is tied to the perpetual change of things; 2) suffering is caused by desire; 3) the only way to end suffering is to suppress desire; and 4) uprightness, meditation, and wisdom (full knowledge of the doctrine) must be followed to approach nirvana.
Desire implies that there is a time (that is not the present) at which you will be more happy, which means you must be less happy with the present.
A fundamental religious belief is the duality of the sacred and profane. Man creates a chasm between these two, for if they mingle the water is muddied and confusion is introduced in what to strive for or avoid, but they both also need each other, for without the profane there would be no need for the sacred, and the worship of the sacred is what defines religions.
Yin and yang
Animism
One theory for animism involves the idea of souls (that can posses us or others) arising due dreaming. Used as a way to explain dreaming, the theory goes that the soul roams around while the dreamer sleeps. Durkheim refutes this. Our dreams involve others, but if we were to ask others whether their souls saw ours in the dream, the dreams wouldn’t coincide. Also, just because we don’t understand something, doesn’t mean we feel the need to explain it. The Sun was thought to be only several feet in diameter for much of humanity’s history. If the unknown about something does nothing to hinder us, the unknown can remain hidden for all we care.
“While the Australian has quite a strong inclination to represent his totem, he does not do so in order to have a portrait before his eyes that perpetually renews the sensation of it; he does so simply because he feels the need to represent the idea he has by means of an outward physical sign, no matter what that sign may be.”
Early totems were and symboles derived from it were not precise for some Australians like they were in America. Symbols could even change, but the clan members’ attitudes towards it would remain constant.
In early Australian totemism, “cults are juxtaposed but not interpenetrating. The totem of a clan is fully sacred only for that clan…Each of them is imagined as being irreducible to similar groups that are radically discontinuous with it and constitutions what amounts to a distinct realm. Under these conditions, it would occur to no one that these heterogeneous worlds were only different manifestations of one and the same fundamental force.”
Much like the religious landscape of today.
During these congregations, participants often get carried away. Typical taboos , like the intermingling of the sexes (which during normal times remain separate), trading of wives, and the odd engagement in incestuous relations (which are normally strictly forbidden)
Sounds like the typical rave
“When the civilizing hero Mangakunjerkunja gave a personal churinga to each member of the Kangaroo clan, he spoke these words: ‘Here is the body of a kangaroo.’ In this way, the churinga is the body of the ancestor, the actual individual, and the totemic animal, all at once.”
Similar to Christianity, where participants are given the body of Christ. Also similar to the holy trinity, where the ancestor is like the father, the individual the son, and the totemic animal the Holy Spirit. The force connecting the three is God, or, equivalently, the society
“The determinism that reigns in that world of representations is thus far more supple than the determinism that is roots in our flesh-and-blood constitution, and it leaves the agent with a justified impression of greater liberty.”
Religious and profane life do not cohere. To establish authority, the sacred must be established in space—temples or sanctuaries—and in time—holy days. These delineations in space and time make the sacred more tangible; separating the greatness of the group from the feebleness of the individuals. Utility for the group versus utility for individuals.
The delineations can blend into each other. One can perform personal religious rites at home or daily. But these will always be second tier to rites performed in temples or on holy days.
“Cause is force before it has manifested the power that is in it. Effect is the same power, but actualized.”
Potential energy versus kinetic.
The physical efficacy of religious practices ascribed by the faithful is an interpretation that masks their true function: “to remake individually and groups morally.” That is, to sustain and proliferate the identity of the group.
Think religious wears: hijabs or turbans; circumcision; baptism; fasts: ramadan, lent.
Group mythology revitalizes the collective spirit and maintains collective beliefs, generally by recounting stories of past. The further back the story goes and the more formidable the feats, the more inspired one’s faith.
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Part 1 talks about:
Published:
“I have no real friends in all the Worlds.” - Vaishravana (God of material wealth)
“Others have laboured, and you have entered into their labour.”
Published:
“Love that is kindled by virtue, will, in another, find reply, as long as that love’s flame appears without.”
Love flourishes when service is done for others, done for the without
Virgil talks of the first circle of hell from which he resides, referring to it as a “blind prison.” Reminiscent of Plato’s cave.
Published:
“Even the wisest people are roused to rage, which trickles into you sweeter than honey, and inside your body it swells like smoke…” (18.135-139)
Very similar to the Buddha quote: Anger is like a honey-tipped arrow with a poison root.
Published:
Published:
“Essential categories are independent, unitary, and continuous. They exist without any dependence on anything other than themselves for existence. This includes their lack of dependence on perceptions or thoughts, which is why essentialism must entail a metaphysical (i.e., nonempirical) claim.”
The essence of something cannot be confirmed by perceptions, it exists independent of them.
“The object-subject divide, when reified, gives rise to all kind of logical problems, and several practical problems besides. To remove it is to remove potentially unnecessary (and sometimes unhelpful) conceptual baggage. In other words, contingentism invites us to live without certain familiar but dubious assumptions, thus potentially enriching our lives as well as our views of the lives of other beings.”
I agree that removing these dualistic assumptions seems to approach truth, but what kinds of problems will arise from their removal? Could it create more problems than it solves?
Signal transduction: “The [ORGANISM] [SENSES AND RESPONDS] to the [ENVIRONMENT].”
“The search for fundamental particles—conceived of as the ‘building block of atoms’—can be a search for something indivisible. Space-occupying particles can always be decomposed—if not empirically, then rationally—into even smaller parts.”
As per Einstein, matter itself (i.e., some aggregation of mass) is really energy in a more concentrated form.
Just as two magnets of same pole are brought together, and there is a repellent field holding them apart, we could consider their boundaries to actually extend beyond their visible surfaces to include a ‘field’, which is just air. “This is in a crude sense how we might imagine atoms, bounding them as spheres, thought the sphere has no surface but is simply a way of describing how close two nuclei might be able to come to one another. In that sense, the space-filling property of atoms does not describe its own ‘actual volume’ calculated from some bounded surface; rather, volume is relative, in that it is the relation between nuclei.”
The volume of some ‘fundamental’ particle depends on its relation with other particles, which makes it non-fundamental
“[A process such as the establishment of the first law of thermodynamics] does not describe a prior separation from and subsequent revelation of the structure of the universe as it is. Such a process is better described as a full participation in a universe that is rendered explicable, predictable, and understandable by virtue of the participation. It is our very intimacy with and participation in ‘what is’ that gives rise to this very real, regular, and predictable world.”
Is the first law an inherent property of the universe? Or is it just a pattern, a regularity also immersed in the universe which we participate within? Was the first law revealed to us, or did our participation render it so? Doesn’t this imply some causality…?
To preserve the vastness of what is is (existence itself), we try to assert its independence from us. But that ironically constrains the vastness by imposing assumptions upon it (whether it be “a something” or “a nothing”). It also assumes what it means for “what is” to be, like for it to be independent. “Contingentism helps preserve the vastness of what is by questioning these very assumptions.”
Norbert Wiener, the father of cybernetics, wrote in 1948 that “Information is information, not matter or energy.” Information was thus described as its own quantity, with sensing being a kind of information processing.
Deeply wrong
“Energy is associated with the chemical bonds of the atoms in gasoline. So this chemical energy is associated with the relationship of the atoms. But most often you like to say that there is energy in your gallon of gasoline.” - David Jeffrey
So there is a potential of energy—a potential of movement—associated with the chemical structure. That energy is contingent on those chemical bonds—it depends on them (among other things, such as their ignition)
If we see the world as:
“In either case, the confusion is created by thinking of energy and form as separable from one another, when they are not.
Energy and information are not two separate things.
The physical-psychological divide:
What if we could have both?
The contingentist account of sensing describes phenomena not as intrinsically existing, nor as interacting, reactive, or changed or transformed over time. The contingentist contends that phenomena arise anew each instant, and this “arising anew” occurs dependently—“that is, phenomena bring each other newly into being in each instant.”
“What do organisms depend on? They depend on delineations of distinct spatial boundaries and temporal continuity. The organism-as-subject depends on the sense that experiences arise from a locus, whether material or immaterial. Finally, whereas the organism-as-object depends on material and energy flows, the organism-as-subject depends additionally on the experience of the nexus of such flows as a separate, intrinsically existent thing.”
“The world is not an illusion.”
Published:
Published:
Published:
To feel one’s way out of the mystery of consciousness, one must find that the key lies not in “the stuff out of which brains are made, but the patterns that can come to exist inside the stuff of a brain.”
Published:
Published:
“An embodied being can never relinquish actions completely; to relinquish the results of actions is all that can be required.”
One cannot live without acting. But one can live without being attached to outcome and inhabiting earnestly the present
Happiness
Published:
“You live in illusions and the appearance of things. There is a Reality, you are that Reality. When you recognize this you will realize that you are nothing, and being nothing, you are everything. That is all.” - Kalu Rinpoche
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
Published:
#The Tao of Physics, Fritjof Capra
Published:
“Though leaves are many, the root is one; Through all the lying days of my youth I swayed my leaves and flowers in the sun; Now I may wither into the truth.”
“And all their helms of silver hovering side by side And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find one more, Being by Cavalry’s turbulence unsatisfied, The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.”
Those that I fight I do not hate, That that I guard I do not love,
…
A lonely impulse of delight Drew me to this tumult of clouds;
…
…
Discovered that my thoughts, not it, Are but a narrow pound.
…
There’s not a thing but love can make The world a narrow pound.
‘Though logic-choppers rule the town, And every man and maid and boy Has marked a distant object down, And aimless joy is a pure joy,’
…
‘And wisdom is a butterfly And not a gloomy bird of prey. If little planned is little sinned But little need the grave distress. What’s dying but a second wind?
…
… Knowledge he shall unwind Through victories of the mind, Till, clambering at the cradle-side, He dreams himself his mother’s pride, All knowledge lost in trance Of sweeter ignorance.
On the grey rock of Cashel I suddenly saw
A Sphinx with woman breast and lion paw,
A Buddha, hand at rest,
Hand lifted up that blest;
And right between these two a girl at play
That, it may be, had danced her life away,
For now being dead it seemed
That she of dancing dreamed.
Although I saw it all in the mind’s eye
There can be nothing solider till I die;
I saw it by the moon’s light
Now at its fifteenth night.
One lashed her tail; her eyes lit by the moon
Gazed upon all things known, all things unknown,
In triumph of intellect
With motionless head erect.
That other’s moonlit eyeballs never moved,
Being fixed on all things loved, all things unloved,
Yet little peace he had,
For all that love are sad.
O little did they care who danced between,
And little she by whom her dance was seen
So she had outdanced thought.
Body perfection brought,
For what but eye and ear silence the mind
With the minute particulars of mankind?
Mind moved yet seemed to stop
As ’twere a spinning-top.
In contemplation had those three so wrought
Upon a moment, and so stretched it out
That they, time overthrown,
Were dead yet flesh and bone
“Consume my heart away; sick with desire And fastened to a dying animal It knows not what it is, and gather me Into the artifice of eternity.”
VII
“[…]
Give place to an indifferent multitude, give place To brazen hawks. Nor self-delighting reverie, Nor hate of what’s to come, nor pity for what’s gone, Nothing but grip of claw, and the eye’s complacency, The innumerable clanging wings that have put out the moon.”
… Labour is blossoming or dancing where
The body is not bruised to pleasure soul,
Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
O chestnut tree, great rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?
I could recover if I shrieked My heart’s agony To passing bird, but I am dumb From human dignity
…
Such thought, that in it bound I need no other thing, Wound in mind’s wandering As mummies in the mummy-cloth are wound.
II.
My Self. A living man is blind and drinks his drop. What matter if the ditches are impure? What matter if I live it all once more? Endure that toil of growing up; The ignominy of boyhood; the distress Of boyhood changing into man; The unfinished man and his pain Brought face to face with his own clumsiness;
The finished man among his enemies?— How in the name of Heaven can he escape That defiling and disfigured shape The mirror of malicious eyes Casts upon his eyes until at last He thinks that shape must be his shape? And what’s the good of an escape If honour find him in the wintry blast?
I am content to live it all again And yet again, if it be life to pitch Into the frog-spawn of a blind man’s ditch, A blind man battering blind men; Or into that most fecund ditch of all, The folly that man does Or must suffer, if he woos A proud woman not kindred of his soul.
I am content to follow to its source Every event in action or in thought; Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot! When such as I cast out remorse So great a sweetness flows into the breast We must laugh and we must sing, We are blest by everything, Everything we look upon is blest.
… I declare this tower is my symbol; I declare This winding, gyring, spiring treadmill of a stair is my ancestral stair; …
We that have done and thought, That have thought and done, Must ramble, and thin out, Like milk spilt on a stone.
… And half a dozen in formation there, That seemed to whirl upon a compass-point, Found certainty upon the dreaming air …
Published:
His little throat labours with inspiration; every feather On throat & breast & wings vibrates with the effluence Divine. All Nature listens silent to him, & the awful Sun Stands still upon the Mountain looking on this little Bird With eyes of soft humility & wonder, love & awe.
…
Thou perceivest the Flowers out forth their precious Odours, And none can tell how from so small a center comes such sweets, Forgetting that within that Center Eternity expands
To Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love All pray in their distress; And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness.
For Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love Is God, our father dear, And Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love Is Man, his child and care.
For Mercy has a human heart, Pity a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.
Then every man, of every clime, That prays in his distress, Prays to the human form divine, Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.
And all must love the human form, In heathen, Turk, or Jew; Where Mercy, Love, and Pity dwell There God is dwelling too.
When the voices of children are heard on the green, And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at rest within my breast, And everything else is still.
‘Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, And the dews of night arise; Come, come, leave off play, and let us away Till the morning appears in the skies.’
‘No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, And we cannot go to sleep; Besides, in the sky the little birds fly, And the hills are all cover’d with sheep.’
‘Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, And then go home to bed.’ The little ones leapèd and shoutèd and laugh’d And all the hills echoèd.
Youth of delight! come hither And see the opening morn, Image of Truth new-born. Doubt is fled, and clouds of reason, Dark disputes and artful teazing. Folly is an endless maze; Tangled roots perplex her ways; How many have fallen there! They stumble all night over bones of the dead; And feel–they know not what but care; And wish to lead others, when they should be led.
… From the depths of dark solitude. From The eternal abode in my holiness, Hidden set apart in my stern counsels Reserv’d for the days of futurity, I have sought for a joy without pain,
For a solid without fluctuation Why will you die O Eternals? Why live in unquenchable burnings? …
Mock on, mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau; Mock on, mock on; ‘tis all in vain! You throw the sand against the wind, And the wind blows it back again.
And every sand becomes a gem Reflected in the beams divine; Blown back they blind the mocking eye, But still in Israel’s paths they shine.
The Atoms of Democritus And Newton’s Particles of Light Are sands upon the Red Sea shore, Where Israel’s tents do shine so bright.
Published:
Published:
Published:
“Randomness is merely the limit case of order, which is the universal norm. Indeed, true randomness is a theoretical construct that does not exist.”
Simplicity is the limit case of complexity, which is the norm, where complexity is cleaved off in an attempt to make the unintelligible intelligible. Simplicity is always a feature of the model, not of the reality modelled
Summary of hemisphere differences
The LH is optimistic, lacking insights to its limitations; the RH is realistic, but tends towards pessimism
###
“The musician does not only manipulate the instrument like a separate object, but lives in it like a limb and inhabits the expressive musical space it opens.” - Behnke
Three phases of creativity:
“[The subliminal self] knows better how to divine than the conscious self, since it succeeds where that has failed. In a word, is not the subliminal self superior to the conscious self?” — Poincaré
“You are a philosopher, Dr Johnson. I have tried too in my time to be a philosopher; but, I don’t know how, cheerfulness was always breaking in.” (Boswel, Life of Johnson)
Three RH functions impacted by schizophrenia (and modern culture): sustained attention, the ability to read faces, and empathy
One schizophrenic patient described by Saas reported that ‘the world consists of tools, and … everything that we glance at has some utilization.’
LH dominated activity leads to a loss of uniqueness (and thus uncertainty) in exchange for increased generality and perceived certainty, where uniqueness is transmuted into abstract categories. People lose their individuality and become typical of a certain class of people.
“Let us, then, understand our condition: we are something and we are not everything. Such being as we have removes us from knowledge of first principles, which arise out of nothingness. And the smallness of our being conceals from us the sight of the infinite.” — Pascal
Truth as a process of revealing itself to us only through our experience. The Greek word for truth, aletheia, literally means ‘un-forgetting’
Example of epigenetics: a fruit fly was stressed during development (the pupae were heat shocked) leading to abnormal wing veins. In 14 generations of consecutive heat shocking, the next generation inherited the abnormality even without heat shocking, meaning the gene had been altered directly by the environment, i.e., not only by random mutation.
In regards to scientific papers, “the heavy acronymic jargon of research papers seems to me to present an almost impenetrable barrier to anyone other than the most highly specialized reader, and even then, if they are to get anything out of the exercise, they must have a huge capacity to tolerate boredom.”
Acts are still important, ‘by their fruits ye shall know them’, but these fruits consistently arise out of the being, and a good intentioned being is more likely to produce fruits over the long run, even if sometimes they don’t
So. Good.
Published:
Published:
“Few are his pleasures: if his eyes have now Been doomed so long to settle upon earth, That not without some effort they behold The countenance of the horizontal sun, Rising or setting, let the light at least Find a free entrance to their languid orbs”
“The mild necessity of use compels To acts of love; and habit does the work 0 Of reason; yet prepares that after-joy Which reason cherishes. And thus the soul, By that sweet taste of pleasure unpursued, Doth find herself insensibly disposed To virtue and true goodness. Some there are, By their good works exalted, lofty minds And meditative, authors of delight And happiness, which to the end of time Will live, and spread, and kindle”
… Alas! my journey, rugged and uneven, Through prickly moors or dusty ways must wind; But hearing thee, or others of thy kind, As full of gladness and as free of heaven, I, with my fate contented, will plod on, And hope for higher raptures, when life’s day is done
…
Amid yon tuft of hazel trees, That twinkle to the gusty breeze, Behold him perched in ecstasies, Yet seeming still to hover; There! where the flutter of his wings Upon his back and body flings Shadows and sunny glimmerings, That cover him all over.
My dazzled sight he oft deceives, A brother of the dancing leaves; Then flits, and from the cottage-eaves Pours forth his song in gushes; As if by that exulting strain He mocked and treated with disdain The voiceless Form he chose to feign, While fluttering in the bushes.
… Huge trunks!—and each particular trunk a growth Of intertwisted fibres serpentine Up-coiling, and inveterately convolved,— …
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
There was a roaring in the wind all night; The rain came heavily and fell in floods; But now the sun is rising calm and bright; The birds are singing in the distant woods; Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods; The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters; And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters.
All things that love the sun are out of doors; The sky rejoices in the morning’s birth; The grass is bright with rain-drops;—on the moors The hare is running races in her mirth; And with her feet she from the plashy earth Raises a mist, that, glittering in the sun, Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run. …
Yes, it was the mountain Echo, Solitary, clear, profound, Answering to the shouting Cuckoo, Giving to her sound for sound!
Unsolicited reply To a babbling wanderer sent; Like her ordinary cry, Like—but oh, how different!
Hears not also mortal Life? Hear not we, unthinking Creatures! Slaves of folly, love, or strife— Voices of two different natures?
Have not ‘we’ too?—yes, we have Answers, and we know not whence; Echoes from beyond the grave, Recognised intelligence!
Such rebounds our inward ear Catches sometimes from afar— Listen, ponder, hold them dear; For of God,—of God they are.
Long but good
… It seems the Eternal Soul is clothed in thee With purer robes than those of flesh and blood, And hath bestowed on thee a safer good; Unwearied joy, and life without its cares.
Why, William, on that old gray stone, Thus for the length of half a day, Why, William, sit you thus alone, And dream your time away?
“Where are your books? — that light bequeathed To Beings else forlorn and blind! Up! up! and drink the spirit breathed From dead men to their kind.
“You look round on your Mother Earth, As if she for no purpose bore you; As if you were her first-born birth, And none had lived before you!”
One morning thus, by Esthwaite lake, When life was sweet, I knew not why, To me my good friend Matthew spake, And thus I made reply:—
“The eye — it cannot choose but see; We cannot bid the ear be still; Our bodies feel, where’er they be, Against or with our will.
“Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness.
“Think you, ‘mid all this mighty sum Of things forever speaking, That nothing of itself will come But we must still be seeking?
“Then ask not wherefore, here, alone, Conversing as I may, I sit upon this old gray stone, And dream my time away.”
…
Grave thoughts ruled wide on that sweet day, Their dignity installing In gentle bosoms, while sere leaves Were on the bough, or falling; But breezes played, and sunshine gleamed- The forest to embolden; Reddened the fiery hues, and shot Transparence through the golden.
For busy thoughts the Stream flowed on In foamy agitation; And slept in many a crystal pool For quiet contemplation: No public and no private care The freeborn mind enthralling, We made a day of happy hours, Our happy days recalling. …
… Sweet is the lore which Nature brings; Our meddling intellect Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things: We murder to dissect.
Enough of Science and of Art; Close up those barren leaves; Come forth, and bring with you a heart That watches and receives.
… And yet the wiser mind Mourns less for what age takes away Than what it leaves behind …
… A Moralist perchance appears; Led, Heaven knows how! to this poor sod: And he has neither eyes nor ears; Himself his world, and his own God;
One to whose smooth-rubbed soul can cling Nor form, nor feeling, great or small; A reasoning, self-sufficing thing, An intellectual All-in-all!
Shut close the door; press down the latch; Sleep in thy intellectual crust; Nor lose ten tickings of thy watch Near this unprofitable dust.
But who is He, with modest looks, And clad in homely russet brown? He murmurs near the running brooks A music sweeter than their own.
He is retired as noontide dew, Or fountain in a noon-day grove; And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.
The outward shows of sky and earth, Of hill and valley, he has viewed; And impulses of deeper birth Have come to him in solitude.
In common things that round us lie Some random truths he can impart,— The harvest of a quiet eye That broods and sleeps on his own heart.
Published:
“There is certainly no purpose in remaining in the dark except long enough to clear from the mind the illusion of having ever been in the light. The fact that you can’t give a reason for wanting her is the best reason for believing that you want her.”
“There was a door and I could not open it. I could not touch the handle. What is hell? Hell is oneself, hell is alone, the other figures in it merely projections. There is nothing to escape from and nothing to escape to. One is always alone.”
“Disillusion can become itself an illusion if we rest in it.”
Published:
“A man is the whole encyclopedia of facts. The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn, and Egypt, Greece…America, lie folded already in the first man. Epoch after epoch…are merely the application of his manifold spirit to the manifold world.”
“To be great is to be misunderstood.”
“…the luminaries of heaven seem to them hung on the arch their master built. They cannot imagine how you aliens have any right to see—how you can see; ‘It must be somehow that you stole the light from us.”’They do not yet perceive that light, unsystematic, indomitable, will break into any cabin, even into theirs. Let them chirp awhile and call it their own. If they are honest and do well, presently their neat new pinfold will be too strait and low, will crack, will lean, will rot and vanish, and the immortal light, all young and joyful, million-orbed, million-coloured, will beam over the universe as on the first morning.”
“There is less intention in history than we ascribe to it. … [The successes of great men] lay in their parallelism to the course of thought, which found in them an unobstructed channel; and the wonders of which they were the visible conductors seemed to the eye their deed.”
Much like Tolstoy’s prescription of Napoleon
“The walking of man and all animals is a falling forward.”
From our past, we fall into the present towards the future.
“In nature, all is useful, all is beautiful. It is therefore beautiful because it is alive, moving, reproductive; it is therefore useful because it is symmetrical and fair.”
Symmetrical… is it? Striving towards symmetry, thus depending on asymmetry, perhaps? Fair and just as a whole? Self-correcting, self-balancing?
“We fill the hands and nurseries of our children with all manners of dolls, drums, and horses, withdrawing their eyes from the plain face and sufficing object of nature, the sun, and moon, the animals, the water, and storms, which should be their toys.”
“The rounded world is fair to see,
Nine times folded in mystery:
Though baffled seers cannot impart
The secret of its laboring heart,
Throb thine with Nature’s throbbing breast And all is clear from east to west.
Spirit that lurks each form within
Beckons to spirit of its kin;
Self-kindled every atom glows,
And hints the future which it owes.”
Published:
“Ah, whom can we ever turn to in our need? Not angels, not humans, and already knowing animals are aware that we are not really at home in our interpreted world.”
“Yet were, when playing by ourselves, enchanted with what alone endures; and we would stand there in the infinite, blissful space between world and toy… Who shows a child as he really is? Who sets him in his constellation and puts the measuring rod of distance in his hand?”
“Nowhere, Beloved, will world be but within us. Our life passes in transformation. And the external shrinks into less and less. Where once an enduring house was, now a cerebral structure crosses our path, completely belonging to the realm of concepts, as though it still stood in the brain. Our age has built itself vast reservoirs of power, formless as the straining energy that it wrests from the earth. Temples are no longer known. It is we who secretly save up these extravagances of the heart. Where one of them still survives, a Thing that was formerly prayed to, worshipped, knelt before- just as it is, it passes into the invisible world. Many no longer perceive it, yet miss the chance to build it inside themselves now, with pillars and statues: greater.”
“With all its eyes the natural world looks out into the Open. Only our eyes are turned backward, and surround plant, animal, child like traps, as they emerge into their freedom. We know what is really out there only from the animal’s gaze; for we take the very young child and force it around, so that it sees objects—not the Open, which is so deep in animals’ faces. … the free animal has its decline in back of it, forever, and God in front, and when it moves, it moves already in eternity, like a fountain.”
“And we: spectators, always, everywhere, turned toward the world of objects, never outward. It fills us. We arrange it. It breaks down. We rearrange it, then break down ourselves.”
“And we, who have always thought of happiness as rising, would feel the emotion that almost overwhelms us whenever a happy thing falls.”
[X, part 2]
All we have gained the machine threatens, as long as it dares to exist in the mind and not in obedience.
To dim the masterful hand’s more glorious lingering, for the determined structure it more rigidly cuts the stones.
Nowhere does it stay behind; we cannot escape it at last as it rules, self-guided, self-oiled, from its silent factory.
It thinks it is life: thinks it does everything best, though with equal determination it can create or destroy.
But still, existence for us is a miracle; in a hundred places it is still the source. A playing of absolute forces that no one can touch who has not knelt down in
wonder.
Still there are words that can calmly approach the unsayable…
And from the most tremulous stones music, forever new, builds in unusable space her deified temple.
[XII]
He who pours himself out like a stream is acknowledged at last by Knowledge;
and she leads him enchanted through the harmonious country
that finishes often with starting, and with ending begins.
…is a child or grandchild of parting. And the transfigured
as she feels herself become laurel, wants you to change into
wind.
[II]
The New, my friends, is not a matter of
letting machines force out our handiwork.
Don’t be confused by change; soon those who have
praised the “New” will realize their mistake.
For look, the Whole is infinitely newer
than a cable or a high apartment house.
The stars keep blazing with an ancient fire,
and all more recent fires will fade out.
Not even the longest, strongest of transmissions
can turn the wheels of what will be.
Across the moment, aeons speak with aeons.
More than we experienced has gone by.
And the future holds the most remote event in union with what we most deeply want.
[VIII]
…
The water is strange and the water is yours,
from here and from far below.
You are the fountain-stone, unawares,
and all Things are mirrored in you.
…
Your task is to love what you don’t understand.
It grips your most secret emotion, and
rushes away with it. Where?
#
Published:
“Because of the glad nature of its source, the power mingled with a sphere shines forth, as gladness, through the living pupil, shines. From this, and not from matter rare or dense, derive the differences from light to light; this is the forming principle, producing, conforming with its worth, the dark, the bright.”
“…thus you may draw, as consequence, the high worth of a vow, when what is pledged with your consent encounters God’s consent; for when a pact is drawn between a man and God, then through free will, a man gives up what I have called his treasure, his free will.”
Published:
“How can anyone say what happens, even if each of us dips a pen a hundred million times into ink?”
Our descriptions will always fall short of what is.
“This mirror inside me shows… / I can’t say what, but I can’t not know!”
We have a deep familiar sense of who we are, but have a hard time describing it. Again, descriptions will always fall short.
“What the sayer or praise is really praising is himself, by saying implicitly, ‘My eyes are clear.’ // Likewise, someone who criticizes is criticizing himself, saying implicitly, ‘I can’t see very well with my eyes so inflamed.’”
Wonderful. Those who praise praise themselves for recognizing what is praiseworthy. Those who blame blame themselves for being teary-eyed victims of the so-called blameworthy. Both try to pretend that their judgment is not clouded.
“…Remember the rewards you get for being obedient! There are two types on the path. Those who come against their will, the blindly religious people, and those who obey out of love. The former have ulterior motives. They want the midwife near, because she gives them milk. The others love the beauty of the nurse. The former memorize the prooftexts of conformity, and repeat them. The latter disappear into whatever draws them to God. Both are drawn from the source. Any movings from the mover. Any love from the beloved.”
A story is like water that you heat for your bath. It takes messages between the fire and your skin. It lets them meet, and it cleans you!
…
The body itself is a screen to shield and partially reveal the light that’s blazing inside your presence. Water, stories, the body, all the things we do, are mediums that hide and show what’s hidden. Study them, and enjoy this being washed with a secret we sometimes know, and then not.
In a boat down a fast-running creek, it feels like trees on the bank are rushing by. What seems
to be changing around us is rather the speed of our craft leaving this world.
As we age, our escape velocity increases. What we think as the world changing around us could be us changing within the Oneness of the world. Time flying by could be us flying from time.
The presence rolling through again clears the shelves and shuts down shops.
Friend of the soul, enemy of the soul, why do you want mine?
Bring tribute from the village.
But the village is gone in your flood.
That cleared site is what I want.
Live in the opening where there is no door
to hide behind. Be pure absence.
In that state everything is essential.
The rest of this must be said in silence because of the enormous difference between light and the words that try to say light.
Beautiful. Captures renewal and the discomfort associated with it; how emptiness makes what is whole more essential and offers a fertile bed upon which the whole can fulfil itself; and the unspeakable nature of the field of embodied experience and God
Published:
Published:
The two philosophical temperaments:
The Tough-Minded: Empiricist (going by ‘facts’), Sensationalistic, Materialistic, Pessimistic, Irreligious, Fatalistic, Pluralistic, Sceptical
Facts we gather are not true, they simply are. “Truth is the function of the beliefs that start and terminate among them.”
If our beliefs about the facts cohere to some agreeable end, lead to consistency, stability, flowing intercourse, and away from isolation and barren thinking, then that flowing process embodies what we call truth.
Published:
Published:
The Frost performs its secret ministry, Unhelped by any wind…
… …left me to that solitude, which suits Abstruser musings, save that at my side My cradled infant slumbers peacefully. ‘Tis calm indeed! so calm, that it disturbs And vexes meditation with its strange And extreme silentness…
… Inaudible as dreams! the thin blue flame Lies on my low-burnt fire, and quivers not; Only that film, which fluttered on the grate, Still flutters there, the sole unquiet thing. Methinks, its motion in this hush of nature Gives it dim sympathies with me who live, Making it a companionable form, Whose puny flaps and freaks the idling Spirit By its own moods interprets, every where Echo or mirror seeking of itself,
And makes a toy of Thought. [we all seek our likeness, we sympathize with motion]
… How oft, at school, with most believing mind, Presageful, have I gazed upon the bars, To watch that fluttering stranger!… [the familiar fluttering film still upon the grate, the bars, the forms]
… So gazed I, till the soothing things, I dreamt, Lulled me to sleep, and sleep prolonged my dreams!
…
… Dear Babe, that sleepest cradled by my side, Whose gentle breathings, heard in this deep calm, Fill up the interespersed vacancies And momentary pauses of the thought! … And think that thou shalt learn far other lore, And in far other scenes! For I was reared In the great city, pent ‘mid cloisters dim, … [childlike wonder unbridled beyond established thought] But thou, my babe! shalt wander like a breeze … …so shalt thou see and hear The lovely shapes and sounds intelligible Of that eternal language, which thy God Utters, who from eternity doth teach Himself in all, and all things in himself. Great universal Teacher! he shall mould Thy spirit, and by giving make it ask. [through wonderful discovery we find that all is given to us, and we thus our spirits thirst for more]
Therefore all seasons shall be sweet to thee, … …whether the eave-drops fall Heard only in the trances of the blast, Or if the secret ministry of frost Shall hang them up in silent icicles Quietly shining to the quiet Moon. [whether they water drops from the eaves or hangs in silent icicles, we shall be grateful. Death?… the film will always flutter, the child will always awaken, motion will always work her way into the secret ministry of frost?]
The Sensual and the Dark rebel in vain, Slaves by their own compulsion! In mad game They burst their manacles and wear the name Of Freedom, graven on a heavier chain! O Liberty! with profitless endeavour Have I pursued thee, many a weary hour; But thou nor swell’st the victor’s strain, nor ever Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power. Alike from all, howe’er they praise thee, (Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays thee) Alike from Priestcraft’s harpy minions, And factious Blasphemy’s obscener slaves, Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions, The guide of homeless winds, and playmate of the waves! And there I felt thee!—on that sea-cliff’s verge, Whose pines, scarce travelled by the breeze above, Had made one murmur with the distant surge! Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare, And shot my being through earth, sea, and air, Possessing all things with intensest love, O Liberty! my spirit felt thee there.
Published:
The broad-backed hippopotamus
Rests on his belly in the mud;
Although he seems so firm to us
He is merely flesh and blood.
Flesh-and-blood is weak and frail,
Susceptible to nervous shock;
While the True Church can never fail
For it is based upon a rock.
The hippo’s feeble steps may err
In compassing material ends,
While the True Church need never stir
To gather in its dividends.
The ‘potamus can never reach
The mango on the mango-tree;
But fruits of pomegranate and peach
Refresh the Church from over sea.
At mating time the hippo’s voice
Betrays inflexions hoarse and odd,
But every week we hear rejoice
The Church, at being one with God.
The hippopotamus’s day
Is passed in sleep; at night he hunts;
God works in a mysterious way-
The Church can sleep and feed at once.
I saw the ‘potamus take wing
Ascending from the damp savannas,
And quiring angels round him sing
The praise of God, in loud hosannas.
Blood of the Lamb shall wash him clean
And him shall heavenly arms enfold,
Among the saints he shall be seen
Performing on a harp of gold.
He shall be washed as white as snow,
By all the martyr’d virgins kiss,
While the True Church remains below
Wrapt in the old miasmal mist.
Published:
‘But remember, education doesn’t make you smarter.’ (What’s the point of talking like that? To a child!) ‘What do you mean, “doesn’t make you smarter”?’ ‘It’s just one of those things.’ ‘So what does make you smarter?’ ‘Life, that’s what.’ Dyoma was silent for a moment, then replied, ‘I don’t agree.’ ‘In our unit there was a commissar, Pashkin. He used to say, “Education doesn’t make you smarter. Nor does rank. They give you another star on your shoulder and you think you’re smarter. Well, you’re not.”’ ‘So what do you mean? There’s no need to study? I don’t agree.’ ‘Of course you should study. Study! Only remember for your own sake, it’s not the same as intelligence.’ ‘What is intelligence, then?’ ‘Intelligence? Trusting your eyes but not your ears…’
—
“He wasn’t joking at all, his words had the weary conviction of people who have no desire to strengthen their argument even by raising their voice.”
—
“Her face and voice bore no trace of the bitterness that naturally comes from a quarrel, for she could see clearly enough the fist-sized tumour under his jaw. Who could she feel bitter against? The tumour? ‘Nobody forced you to come here. You can discharge yourself whenever you like. But remember …’ She hesitated. ‘People don’t only die of cancer.’ It was a friendly warning.”
—
“You see, when we’re ill a doctor is like a ferryman: we need him for an hour and after we forget he exists.”
—
“Which of us from childhood has not shuddered at the Mysterious? At contact with that impenetrable yet yielding wall behind which there seems to be nothing, yet from time to time we catch a glimpse of something… In our everyday, open, reasonable life, where there is no place for mystery, it suddenly flashes at us, ‘Don’t forget me! I’m here!’”
—
After recounting the Rusanovs history of snitching friends to the government, their cowardice, and their disgust in being in areas frequented by the general public (e.g., public transport): “The Rusanovs loved the People, their great People. They served the People and were ready to give their lives for the People.”
Ah… the People (general) but not the people (particular). Theory over practice.
—
“She spoke severely, but it was a strange sort of severity, touched with softness, like all her words and movements. It was not a dim, diffused softness, but somehow melodic and based on harmony.”
—
“Now he was like an autumn plant in haste to extract like the last juices from the earth so as not to regret the lost
—
“Nowadays we don’t think much of a man’s love for animal; we laugh at people who are attached to cats. But if we stop loving animals, aren’t we bound to stop loving humans too?”
—
“There’s something noble about treating oneself with a strong poison. Poison doesn’t pretend to be harmless medicine, it tells you straight out, ‘I’m poison! Watch out! Or else!’ So we know what we’re in for.”
—
“’When eyes gaze endlessly into each other, they acquire an entirely new quality. You see things never revealed in passing glances. The eyes seem to lose their protective coloured retina. The whole truth comes splashing out wordlessly, it cannot be contained.”
—
“Such consistent, logical, irrefutable materialism and the result was … what’s the point of living? Everything totted up in exact percentages, how many women experience nothing at all, how many women experience ecstasy. Those stories about how women … move from category to category in search of their own identity…”
—
“The man with the hardest life is the man who walks out of his house every day and bangs his head against the top of the door because it’s too low…”
—
“He walked on to the porch and stood still. He breathed in.
It was young air, still and undisturbed. He looked out at the world - it was new and turning green. He raised his head. The sky unfolded, pink from the sun rising somewhere unseen. He raised his head higher. Spindle-shaped, porous clouds, centuries of laborious workmanship, stretched across the whole sky, but only for a few moments before dispersing, seen only by the few who happened to throw back their heads at that min-ute, perhaps by Oleg Kostoglotov alone among the town’s inhabitants.
Through the lace, the cut-out pattern, the froth and plumes of these clouds sailed the shining, intricate vessel of the old moon, still well visible.
It was the morning of creation. The world had been created anew for one reason only, to be given back to Oleg. ‘Go out and live!’ it seemed to say.”
—
Published:
Published:
“When the educated man of understanding considers the study of astron-omy, and thinks of the tremendous dimensions of the spheres and the swiftness of their movement, his soul longs to ascend to those spheres and to see them with his very own eyes. This, however, it cannot do, on account of the weight of the body. But when the soul separates itself from the body, and is not held back by its wicked doings, its harmful attributes, and its great ignorance, it arrives there in an instant, with the blink of an eye.“ Source: Muslim Epistles of the Brethren of Purity Can the body be integrated somehow? Can there be harmony? Is separation necessary? “And don’t be astonished by a man whose flesh / has longed for wisdom and prevailed; / He’s soul encircling physique, / and a sphere in which all is held.” — Gabirol Body ensouled. Hold all in the palm of your hand. The fountain of life implies “the process of creation is continuous and ongoing at all levels at all time in a universal chain of transformation reaching from that pure source to the lowest point of the cosmos and back up to its unknowable origin.” Matter takes on form as a body takes on clothing. “It is impossible for matter to have any reality without form, for it does not take on existence unless it is dressed in form.” “He longs to give form to the formless, / as a lover longs for his friend. …” —
… The wind beat at the sheets of rain, and the clouds were cut into threads reaching down into the world below—drenching ridges, preparing the furrows for sowing.
On the hills, hidden grasses emerged like secrets a man had long withheld: all winter the clouds wept until suddenly life again swept through the trees of the field. —
… I witnessed the wonders of God when my eyes saw the clouds shedding their tears as the garden began to sparkle. They scattered their drops like blood being dashed at the altar,
inking designs on the blossoms’ skin in settings of crimson and linen-like whiteness. Then the beds of herbs offered a scent like myrrh before the clouds that had burst. — Your soul strains and you sigh … Weaken the feeble who weigh on me more than all the stones of the world; … they’ve been busy with rest and sloth and have reached its delights by chance alone. … If wisdom is small in your eyes, in hers you’re nothing at all; she’s obscure and distant to you because your hearts have long been enclosed in their cauls. … —
(Banger, ends strong too…) … The Lord created this people mindless and fashioned its bulls without any horns, and every boor now puffs himself up as though by right of just having-been-born: they set their hearts after wealth alone, and worship gold in place of the Lord, but my God has a day when the stubborn and false will be like stubble within a great storm— and the honest before him will exult and prevail while the insolent wither and fail. — The kite … See the affliction and work of your servant whose soul is like a kite in a snare—
and I’ll live as your slave forever and ever, and seek no freedom beyond your command. —
I love you with the love a man has for his only son— with his heart and his soul and his might; and I take great pleasure in your mind as you take the mystery on of the Lord’s act in creation— though the issue is distant and deep, and who could approach its foundation?
But I’ll tell you something I’ve heard and let you dwell on its strangeness: sages have said that the secret of all being owes all to the all who has all in hand: He longs to give form to the formless as a lover longs for his friend. And this is, maybe, what the prophets meant when they said that he worked all for his own exaltation.
I’ve offered you these words— now show me how you’ll raise them. —
Before my being your mercy came through me, bringing existence to nothing to shape me. Who is it conceived of my form— and who cast it then in a kiln to create me? Who breathed soul inside me and who opened the belly of hell and withdrew me? Who through youth brought me this far? Who with wisdom and wonder endowed me? I’m clay cupped in your hands, it’s true; it’s you, I know, not I who made me. I’ll confess my sin and will not say the serpent’s ways, or evil seduced me. How could I hide my error from you when before my being your mercy came through me? —
Two things meet in me, alike in kind, … My spirit and soul in your praise are entwined… — My thoughts asked me … To the god of my life, my desire’s desire, whom my soul and flesh long to be near. —
He dwells forever, exalted, alone, and no one comes near him whose kingdom is One— from the light of his garment he fashioned his world within three words that are sealed. … He’s prime to all primes— … He fashioned all with a blemishless word; he alone leads, he’s instantly heard; the Lord carries all without growing weary— within their own wisdom he captures the wise. … He says: Let there be… and it is by his might: All that’s hidden he brings to light. … Let there be… allowing being to come into existence. When we embody this disposition of ‘allowing’ in a similar way, we atone with God? —
… Your oneness I sought at the door to the poem … The sublime oneness that precedes, inspires the poem… — I take great pleasure … The heavens cannot contain your power; how might my thought give it shape or form? Grant me discernment and honesty’s grace— and my will, soon, will bend to yours. … —
… Yours is the strength within whose mystery our minds eventually fail; … yours the Name that eludes the wise, and the might to bear the world in its void, and the craft to bring what’s hidden to light.
Yours is the kindness that infuses creation, and the goodness veiled for those who hold you in awe. … yours is the real which becomes existence in light’s reflection and in whose shadow we live; … yours the reward reserved for the righteous in spirit for whom it was hidden:
You saw it was good and concealed it…
Good as concealed, so the righteous must work to reveal it… if nothing was concealed, all would have access, righteous or unrighteous. Describes matter as fashioned in form, longing to become the supreme form. Is this dressing, fashioning a simultaneous unconcealing?..
… You are One, and your oneness’s mystery amazes the wise, who’ve never known what it was. … You are One, and my speech can’t establish your boundary or line, therefore I said I would guard my ways, so as not to sin with my tongue. …
You abide beyond the range of the ear in its hearing and the eye in its seeing, ungoverned by how and where and when. … You abide, and your form’s obscure and beyond detection and deeper than all revelation…
You are alive, though not established in time, and not of a time that’s known.
You are alive, though not in spirit and soul: for you’re the soul to spirit’s soul. …
You are the light of the upper regions, and the eye of every soul that’s pure will take you in—
and the clouds of sin in the sinner’s soul will obscure you.
Your invisible light in the world will be seen in the world to come … Invisible light. I like this.
… You are Lord, and every creature serves you as slave and nothing detracts from your glory, not those who worship without you— for the drive of all is to reach you—
although they resemble men who are blind, walking along the way of the king and going astray
sinking in the pit of destruction,
slipping in the trap of deception—
certain they’ll teach their haven, as each one labors in vain. … All is a single mystery:
though its name might alter in aspects, all toward a single place move on…
Mmm…the multifaceted nature of god, or our limited perception of it divides/variates what is One. Reminds me of the Gita
You are wise, and wisdom is a fountain and source of life welling up from within you,
and men are too coarse to know you. … You are wise, and your wisdom gave rise to an endless desire in the world as within an artist or worker—
to bring out the stream of existence from Nothing, like light flowing flowing from sight’s extension—
drawing from the source of that light without vesse, giving it shape without tools, hewing and carving, refining and making it pure:
He called to Nothing—which split; to existence—pitched like a tent; to the world—as it spread beneath sky. …
… The wheel of the wind you established over the sea, which it circles in circuits, as the wheel of it rests in that circling… … and then through a fourfold font diverge. Wow…the circuitous motion of air described, weather patterns of the seas, wonderful. The fourfold font is the primary elements: earth, water, wind, fire.
… and the moon’s lamp soon goes dim—
so all of the creatures on earth might know that heaven’s creatures, though powerful, are governed in their rise and decline, though after its fall the moon lives on, lit in the wake of its darkness. … then the moon as well will pass, dark before the sun like a cloud, blocking its light from our eyes
so all who see them will know… … that a Lord exists above them to darken the light they’re given. … …those who think of the sun as their Lord will surely be brought to shame, as their words will soon be tested; … that the sun has no dominion, and that he who lessens its light rules on his own.
In return for all of its kindness, he sends it a slave of its slaves who cancels its light— to destroy her abominable image and remove her as queen from her throne.
Describes ten circles. The first is God’s throne (?), then ascends celestially from planet to planet, eventually reaching the intelligence that moves the cosmos, and then, on the 10th rung, the mind. The tenth to the Lord is always sacred.
This is the highest ring, transcending all elevation and beyond all ideation. … its reality derives from your power;
its longing is from you and for you, and toward you ascends its desire.
Who comprehends your thinking in transforming the radiance of intellect’s sphere into a glow of souls and spirits on high? … holding the flaming sword that revolves every which way—
as they work in all manner, wherever the spirit moves them … that you it was who gave us form— not we our own—
that we are the work of your hand.
The mind as a “flaming sword that revolves in every which way.” Illuminating and dividing/discriminating. Wonderful analogy. Philo described the swords as a symbol for divine reason/the logos: ever moving and rotating in all directions… The intellect seems to fit with the sword, but the flaming part and its illumination implies some revealing/enlightening of unity between what is sliced…
Who could approach the place of your dwelling, in your raising up over the sphere of mind the Throne of Glory in the fields of concealment and splendor, at the source of the secret and matter, where the mind reaches and yields? … Above the mind, but also below (?) the mind, is the Lord. The flow enfolds, the fount enfolds.
… This is the range of pure soul raveled in the bond of all that’s vital. For those who’ve worked to exhaustion— this is the place of their strength’s renewal… …
… You’ve shut us inside your world, while you look in from beyond and observe;
and all that we try to conceal
within or without you reveal.
Only he may conceal. Not us. He is the concealer and revealer?
… …a mind to grasp but the edge of your mystery, … and these are only the borders of your ways which are greater by far in sum and life to those who find them…
(Might be my favourite…whole thing slaps)
My face fell when I thought, my God, of the ways I’ve made you angry—
for all the good you accord me I offer you only transgression.
You didn’t need to create me— it was only Magnanimity—
not an act of Necessity— but an act of Love and Will.
Before my being you established your Mercy and gave me life with your Spirit-sent-through-me; and after I entered the air of the world you did not leave me:
with a father’s compassion you raised me; like a child in its nursery you taught me; on my mother’s breast in me you put trust, and from your pleasure I learned to be pleased.
When I stood in my place you gave me courage, in your arms you took me and taught me to walk;
and you gave me instruction and wisdom; from distress and trouble you saved me, and when anger came on you concealed me behind the shadow of your right hand.
How much trouble my eyes have overlooked as you helped me; and before it came on you’d prepared a healing and did not strike me down.
When my vigilance failed you watched over me. When I came to the mouth of the lion and entered, you broke its jaws and withdrew me.
I was ill with continual sickness— and you healed me.
When your harsh judgment came into the world, from the path of the sword you removed me; from plague you spared me; in famine you fed me; and I flourished in all that I did…
When I made you angry, as a man rebukes his son you rebuked me, and in my sorrow I called:
If my life in your eyes is of value, do not turn me empty away.
Above all this you’ve done more, in giving me perfect faith to believe that you are the God of truth— that your way is the truth and your prophets are real.
And you kept me away from your enemies, as they blasphemed mocking your book of the law, and pursuing those who serve you; denying the prophets who speak of you.
They feign innocence, and cultivate guile; pretend to be pure as they hide their corruption— like a vessel full of shame and confusion,
scrubbed without with the water of falseness, while all that’s within is defiled.
… for if I depart from the world as I entered, and naked and empty return as I came, why was I made— or called to bear witness to struggle and pain? … From the time he emerges from his mother’s womb his nights are grief and his days a sigh; if he’s lifted one day in fortune— his fortune’s worms are bred by dawn. … He prays in sorrow and multiplies words, slickens his talk and piles up vows … and strengthens the bars on his doors, while death in his room is lurking.
He increases the number of guards about him; but the ambush will come from within—
his fence won’t stop the wolves come for their lamb… …
… Loving-kindness is yours in all the good you’ve done me,
and until I die will do… … May you be…known as One by those who seek to know you in oneness … May the words of my mouth and my heart’s meditation before you be pleasing—
my rock—
and my redemption.
Published:
“Morality, then, seems to be concerned with three things. Firstly, with fair play and harmony between individuals. Secondly, with what might be called tidying up or harmonising the things inside each individual. Thirdly, with the general purpose of human life as a whole: what man was made for: what course the whole fleet ought to be on: what tune the conductor of the band wants it to play.”
Group maintenance, self maintenance
Published:
Published:
“If the good has a cause, it is no longer the good; if it has a consequence—a reward—it is also not the good. Therefore the good is outside the chain of causes and effects.” — from Anna Karenina
Grant Allen described beauty as that which affords the greatest stimulation with the least expenditure.
After listing a bunch of attempted definitions of beauty, Tolstoy summarizes them into two views:
Tolstoy on the good, the beautiful, the true:
The good as
The beautiful as
The true as
Published:
By negating sensations (bodily and spiritual), “you will be drawn up in your feelings above understanding to the radiance of divine darkness that transcends all being.”
“In the divine work of contemplation we must, with dexterity of grace, skilfully pare completely away the encumbering lump…as a powerful hindrance antagonistic to the pure hidden sight of God.”
“Beginning from what is furthest, we first remove from God that which is without substance and everything that does not exist; for these are further than the things that merely exist and do not have life.”
“…nor do any of the things that are known know him as he is; nor does he know the things that exist as they are in themselves, but as they are in him…”
“For, good though it may be to think of God’s acts of kindness, and to love and praise him for them, it is far better to think of his naked being, and to love and praise him for himself.”
“And therefore lift up your love to they cloud; or rather, if I am to speak truly, let God draw your love up to that cloud, and try with the help of his grace to forget all other things.”
Contemplation not only destroys the ground and root of sin, as far is possible on earth, but also bring virtues. “And however many virtues someone has without [contemplation], they are all contaminated by some distorted purpose, which makes them imperfect.”
When Martha complains to Jesus of Mary, Jesus says “Martha, Martha. You are full of care and troubled about many things. But one thing is necessary.”
There are two lives: the active and contemplative. Of these three there are three parts: active, mix, contemplative. The first involves the corporal honourable works (good), the second meditating on our sin and the Lord’s acts (better), the third on the cloud of unknowing (best). The first two are good and holy, but they end in this life. They are finite. For in heaven, who will be sick that needs taking care of? What sins will there be to worry about? Won’t it all be contemplation and reverence for the highest? Doesn’t that make it an eternal project?
“…anyone who wishes to be a perfect disciple of our Lord needs to stretch up his spirit in this work for the salvation of all his brothers and sisters in nature, as our Lord stretched out his body on the cross. And how? Not for his friends and his kin and those he loves most intimately, but for all humanity in general, without special regard to one rather than another.”
“Then perhaps he will at times send out a beam of spiritual light, piercing this cloud of unknowing that is between you and him, and show you some of his mysteries, of which human beings are not permitted or able to speak. Then you will sense your feelings aflame with the fire of his love, far more than I can, may, or will tell you at this time. For of the work that belongs to God alone I dare not take it upon me to speak with my blabbering fleshly tongue; and, to put it briefly, even though I dared, I would not.“
“For out of original sin will always spring new and fresh stirrings of sin, which you must always smite down, eagerly slashing them away with a sharp, double edged and fearful sword of discernment.”
“God’s everlastingness is his length, his love is his breadth, his power his height, and his wisdom is his depth.”
“…if someone who has by nature a plain, open, rough voice speaks weakly and feebly…that is a clear sign of hypocrisy, whether in the young or old.”
“The division that exists in one’s nose bodily, separating one nostril from the other, symbolizes that one should have spiritual discrimination, and be able to distinguish good from bad, bad from worse, and good from better…”
“…he alone is his own cause and his own being. For as nothing may exist without him, so he may not exist without himself. He is being both to himself and to all things…and the fact that all things have their beings in him and that he is being to all things means that he is one in all thing and all things are in him.”
“Although your unruly prying thought can find no food for themselves in this kind of activity, so that they will keep on urging you resentfully to give up this work and do something that appeals to their curiosity.”
“For, if any kind of specific thought of anything except your naked blind being (which is your God and your goal) should enter your mind, then you are turned aside and held back to labour in the trickery and ingenuity of thought, which distracts and divides you and your mind both from yourself and from your God.”
“For as in slew the use of your bodily senses is suspended, so that the body can rest completely, just so in this spiritual sleep…the blessed soul can sleep softly and rest in loving perception of God as he is, fully sustaining and strengthening its spiritual powers.”
“For everything that is spoken about contemplation is not the thing itself but is only about it. But now, since we cannot speak it, let us speak about it, to confound intellectual pride, and especially yours which, on this occasion at least, is the sole reason for my present writing.”
Published:
Clustering dynamically salient regions of channel flow turbulence
Generating synthetic fluid velocity fields with PGGAN and StyleGAN networks
Three dimensional fluid velocity super-resolution
Teaching Assistant, University of Waterloo, Systems Design Engineering Department, 2021
Identifying, understanding, and analyzing the interactions and impacts among technology, society and the environment for current and emerging technologies.
Teaching Assistant, University of Waterloo, Systems Design Engineering Department, 2021
Fundamental concepts in systems involving fluid flow. Basic treatment of statics, kinematics and dynamics of fluids. Conservation of mass, momentum and energy for a control volume. Dimensional analysis and similarity. Flow in pipes and channels. Brief introduction to boundary layers, lift and drag, ideal and compressible flow.
Teaching Assistant, University of Waterloo, Systems Design Engineering Department, 2021
Geometry and algebra: root-finding, vectors, coordinate systems, lines and planes, conic sections, complex numbers. Introduction to numerical computation. Floating point arithmetic, accuracy and sources of error. Matrix algebra, inverses. Analytical and numerical techniques for systems of linear equations.