The Mutations of Time and Sense
... In particular, we'll need to identify how the contours that turn rational thinking into a thinglike figure... might be contours that, viewed differently, render anomalous experience visible. We'll need to examine how those contours might constitute literal boundaries between states, boundaries that could turn states of mind that appear mutually exclusive into foreground and background for each other. If we can start to specify how that happens, we might be one step closer to comprehending how a loss that strikes most of us as unimaginable and even dangerous could turn out to be tolerable. We might become more comfortable with the idea of deliberately, temporarily letting go of rational thought in order to see something we wouldn't otherwise... How we get to experience of that state is a separate question, and one to be taken up later. But we increase the likelihood that we'll at least be open to getting there if we know that going back and forth is built in. We need to know that getting there doesn't mean giving up our grounding in rational thought for good.
-- Elizabeth Lloyd Mayer
Detach sense from the body, or matter, which is only a form of human belief, and you may learn the meaning of God, or good, and the nature of the immutable and immortal. Breaking away from the mutations of time and sense, you will neither lose the solid objects and ends of life nor your own identity. Fixing your gaze on the realities supernal, you will rise to the spiritual consciousness of being, even as the bird which has burst from the egg and preens its wings for a skyward flight.
-- Mary Baker Eddy
I want to live above the world,
Though Satan's darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.Lord, lift me up and let me stand
By faith on heaven's table-land,
A higher plane than I have found:
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.
Agnes Sanford
I'm reading Elizabeth Lloyd Mayer's Extraordinary Knowing (which I'll write about in full later, because I'm loving it), but a name she threw out at random in the chapter on healing struck me as familiar in a Pentecostal/Charismatic context.
Yep, there's a link there all right, and I think it's a big one. Agnes Sanford (or at least her Inner Healing technique) is associated with the Vineyard Christian Fellowship (with which I'm very familiar, mostly in a good way), with not a little controversy attached. She also apparently was a prime mover in the Charismatic wave of the 1950s-60s (as opposed to the Pentecostal wave earlier in the century). Her book, The Healing Light, was a how-to manual.
Most of the controversy in evangelical Christian circles that seems to be associated with her centres around her being 'too New Age'. And given this description I guess I can see why:
Agnes Sanford began a healing ministry in the '40s; received Pentecostal exp., in '53/54; pioneered teaching for the "healing of memories"; part of the "positive thinking" movement she presented God's healing work as following the laws of nature and positive thinking; she believed that God could work through "good" spirits as well as the spirits of people who have died; she taught that God used some mediums to heal; she believed that angels and dead saints could "speak and act in and through us."
What fascinates me most, though, looking at this now, is that she represents a line drawn right down the middle of the cluster of Spiritualist, New Thought and Pentecostal phenomena that I've been following from the Fox sisters and Mary Baker Eddy, through Azusa Street and taking in Jungian psychology, Walter Russell, A Course In Miracles and Star Gate remote viewing along the way.
I've been looking for a person who would intersect the set. She looks like being that, as well as a huge historical influence on the Charismatic movement. Interesting indeed.
Irreducible Mind
I've finally finished reading Irreducible Mind: Toward a Psychology for the 21st Century.
It's a hefty tome, just published this year, tracing the outlines of mainstream cognitive psychology/neuroscience versus the evidence for various forms of anomalous cognition, altered states of consciousness and extreme psychophysical interaction, with a view to proving that mind is demonstrably not a function of the brain but is something entirely elsewhere. The authors (apparently mostly involved with the Esalen Center as well as University of Virginia) recap over a century of data from hypnosis, meditation, trance mediumship, dissociation/multiple personality, psi and near-death experience studies, and seem particularly taken with the turn-of-the-century ideas of William James and Frederic Myers, both of whom were involved with the Society for Psychical Research in the 1880s to early 1900s.
The idea that the soul/spirit/mind/psyche has a separate existence from the body is not news to many religious believers, anyone who's had any kind of anomalous experience, or even anyone who's read any pop-science New Age book about the philosophical implications of quantum physics in the last twenty years, but coming even from the fringes of the scientific world it's a bit startling to see stories of the kind that have long circulated in the underground laid out all in one place with real footnotes.
There seems to be a a bit of a 21st century psi / anomalous cognition publishing renaissance happening right now, what with Dean Radin's Entangled Minds, and Elizabeth Lloyd Mayer's Extraordinary Knowing (next in my read pile). Irreducible Mind, though, has the weight and feel of a textbook. It's not a book you'll necessarily lend to a friend over coffee. It took me a solid two weeks to plough through it.
Myers' theory, published in his book 'Human Personality and its Survival of Bodily Death' in 1903, centers around the idea of a 'Subliminal Self', which is different from the Freudian or Jungian unconscious in that it is conscious (but of which we are not normally aware in our usual cognitive stream). More of a 'superconsciousness', perhaps. The theory appears to have emerged in response specifically to 19th century multiple personality studies, which apparently showed a cluster of hypnosis / enhanced psi / MPD connections, to the point where it seems Myers believed that the most progress in uncovering the true nature of human psychology and the keys to enhanced human mental/psychic abilities would be found by studying MPD patients - and possibly even, though I'm not sure he went so far as to say this out loud, deliberately inducing alter personalities through hypnosis in a lab setting. (This will be ringing familiar loud bells to anyone who's read Rigorous Intuition and delved a bit into the underground MKULTRA mythos out there on the net. Not something I personally want to turn out to be true, but it resonates strongly here. Perhaps the creators of the 'Bluebird' story are themselves big fans of Myers and the SPR, and that's how the same material has seeped into the underground? It seems a very steampunkish sort of retro-obsession to share, though.)
Leaving aside the MPD/DID weirdness - and there's plenty of weirdness left to go around - the other main feature of the Subliminal Self theory is that it seems to cover a continuum of multiple 'selves', whether manifesting in one person (trance/possession/alter) or potentially across multiple people (telepathy/clairvoyance/synchronicity). By the way, Myers was the person who first coined the word 'telepathy', so perhaps he knew a thing or two about the subject?
An analogy of Myers of a possible cognitive spectrum, akin to the electromagnetic spectrum - ranging from 'infrared' autonomic processes through 'visible' conscious state to 'ultraviolet' higher-level super-consciousness of whatever sort, made me sit up and take notice, because again it's spookily similar to P J Gaenir's Rainbow of Soul. Perhaps she's also a Myers fan?
What intrigued me most, though, were the absences. Despite lots of mention of faith healing, hypnosis/mesmerism and placebo effect in the late 1800s/early 1900s, there was not a peep about Christian Science (who surely were some of the first to document case studies of this sort of thing?) The authors sketch out the vague outlines of two possible lines of cognitive synthesis in the final chapter, a dualist and a monist approach, and mention that they find the monist one more challenging but ultimately more attractive. But no mention of the monism of A Course In Miracles - itself an artifact of high cognitive strangeness - which seems to me to slide neatly into a few holes in the cognitive psychology field at right about this point. Extend the idea of the Subliminal Self to its logical extent and you seem to get something very similar to a One Self. But the authors stop short of this, presumably figuring they've burned enough karma as it is and don't want to get into religion and philosophy as well. But I do, because otherwise what's the point? Still, I'm not really even pretending to be scientific about my approach.
No mention of Walter Russell's ideas about genius and divine inspiration either, though they parallel Myers' and the author's stance (and though his self-reported 'illumination' experience includes levitation, which they admit as a known side-effect). Bertrand Russell, yes, gets plenty of footnotes. But not the other one.
I have a few new leads to follow up having read this. The philosophy of David Bohm, for one, feels familiar and worth exploring. Human Personality itself, I guess, though I'm really less impressed by sheer bulk of data at this point than by philosophies that somehow seem to internally resonate. What exactly I'm looking for I'm still unclear about; this kind of research seems to skim to one side, being almost but not entirely irrelevant, though still useful as a sort of brute-force tool. I'm almost afraid of coming too close to material of too high strangeness in case it leaves me psychically burned; I'm certainly very wary of attempting to process it using strict waking-mind logic like a dutiful little scientist. That seems like a good way to give oneself a headache and get lost in strange loops.
But, on the other hand, it is very nice to see that there are people willing to think seriously about approaching weird psychological states with an open mind and risk exposing both it and themselves to reproducible experimental protocols. I don't think psi will yield to scientific examination of the old 'we're humans dammit and we'll smash God Himself to find out what's inside' kind, because we're dealing with systems that are observer-dependent, sentient and smarter than us -- but there are, I think, perhaps ways of approaching this stuff humbly and wisely with the intent to catalogue and learn and not getting burned.
At least, I hope so.
Poem: Starholes
One of a triptych of poems written for my Gethsemane station at Opawa Baptist Easter Journey 2007. The theme for the labyrinth as a whole was 'today's news'. Since climate change had burst into the headlines I wanted to do a contemplative station from the viewpoint of Earth as 'a garden under siege'; a whole-systems, God's-eye overview that invited reflection and confrontation, seeking for hope amid the shadow of approaching disaster.
Accompanying photograph: Apollo 8 classic 'Earthrise' shot of Earth from moon, 1968.
I've always felt the Apollo expeditions to have a sort of surreal camping-trip weekend feel to them: transient, temporary, and above all childlike. And we've never been back. There is such wonder and terror captured in that one fragile glimpse of Earth, vulnerable, a glass marble. But I reject utterly the fatalism and despair of materialist science that proclaims 'that's all, there's nothing else, we're completely alone and now even the Earth is doomed'.
And yet. How much more suffering can the Earth endure? How much of that cup dare we ask to be averted? Gethsemane deeply troubles me, both as a symbol and as a question. If the bodies of all creatures die, and yet resurrection is certain, what does extinction of a planetary biosphere mean in the eyes of God who inhabits a glorious multiverse? Does He even see it? In what realm can the flame of life continue if it burns out here?
Yes, I am praying for the very life of Earth itself, and though it seems such a huge and yet simple thing, I am not yet confident that I am heard, or that I even grasp the question.
I weep, I rage against eternal night. I beat my fists on dead lunar stone. Why does God keep smiling?
starholes
this is us in '69:
blue marble
snapshotted
halfway to nowhere
(-- what we did on our
lunar holiday:
scuffed shoes, tossed rocks --)
that's all there is:
one pale blue dot
(-- except, ah, the fire
which burns through
starholes
from the other side --)
it's not like I'm asking
for much, God
just the earth
Poem: Stormwalker
One of a triptych of poems written for my Gethsemane station at Opawa Baptist Easter Journey 2007. The theme for the labyrinth as a whole was 'today's news'. Since climate change had burst into the headlines I wanted to do a contemplative station from the viewpoint of Earth as 'a garden under siege'; a whole-systems, God's-eye overview that invited reflection and confrontation, seeking for hope amid the shadow of approaching disaster.
Accompanying photograph: A hurricane dominates a quarter-Earth from orbit.
This poem is about a personal response to climate change in a New Zealand context. Christchurch is an exposed, swamp-built city. We inhabit an urban environment without immediate danger from weather, but there is always the shadow in the back of the mind, in the cold wet winter days, that the Canterbury river plains are a fundamentally inhospitable place to be should the water rise. On Rapaki Track just up the hills from my childhood home there is a monument to children who died of exposure when the weather turned bad. Some part of me has never quite forgotten the fear as a small child of being lost, displaced, a city kid thrown back to the elements. I wrote this as a challenge to that shadow.
Stormwalker
when the hot nor'wester
scorches tussock up Sugarloaf
I will remember you
on Olivet
when the freezing easterly
drenches Brighton Pier anglers
I will remember you
by Kinnaret
when the winter night
shades westward over Halswell
I will remember you
in Gethsemane
the storm rises
the wind whirls
the wave breaks
it will not touch me
it will not touch me
it will not touch me
Poem: Off The Grid
One of a triptych of poems written for my Gethsemane station at Opawa Baptist Easter Journey 2007. The theme for the labyrinth as a whole was 'today's news'. Since climate change had burst into the headlines I wanted to do a contemplative station from the viewpoint of Earth as 'a garden under siege'; a whole-systems, God's-eye overview that invited reflection and confrontation, seeking for hope amid the shadow of approaching disaster.
Accompanying photograph: the city lights of Earth against a black background
Collapse of the industrial, electrical and communication grid is nearly unthinkable to me, one of my deepest horrors, yet in many places on Earth right now - and everywhere only a few centuries ago - such isolation and self-reliance was the norm, our ancestors perhaps stronger for it. And in contemplative prayer we approach that same void willingly. Jesus in the Garden faces the loss of all supports and yet remains unscathed. How can I detach myself from my cybernetic cocoon and listen for the peace within?
off the grid
no cellphone
no pda
no broadband
no Wurlitzer
no Edison
no Gutenberg
no monk
no crier
no scribe
outside
alone
dark
signal
Poem: Equinox
One of a pair written for my Last Supper station at the 2006 Opawa Baptist Easter Journey. Accompanying photograph: Cashel Mall at The Crossing. Music: Dido, Rhian Sheehan.
My theme was quietness in transience. I picked a fast food motif for the Supper table. Trying to make a place for reflection and rest in the rush and the hurry, before the oncoming darkness of winter and the Passion. Also trying to anchor my spirituality in the discrete here and now of Christchurch, Easter 2006, where New Zealand's inverted seasons turn a Northern Hemisphere spring festival into a dirge of autumn; how we confront an alien land's church calendar here must necessarily adapt. This poem reflects the physicality of a moment in time. I still love it.
Equinox
Christchurch at Easter
is a rain-slick labyrinth
daylight saving's cut out
and we're stumbling into autumn dark
the clock ticks, sunset closing in
shops shut early
traffic backs up Moorhouse Ave
Cashel Mall fades, grey to black
now and here's a window
just one moment
as the busker pauses
and the dance floor breathes
to steal such quiet
as we can
make spaces
in between the notes
drink coffee on Colombo Street
and listen
Poem: God of the Streets
One of a pair written for my Last Supper station at the 2006 Opawa Baptist Easter Journey. Accompanying photograph: Cashel Mall at The Crossing. Music: Dido, Rhian Sheehan.
My theme was quietness in transience, with the motif of a fast food restaurant. The other poem was a reflection of Christchurch at Easter as a time and place. This was its counterpart, a contemplative prayer. I have spent too many hours walking the streets of Christchurch. It's a walkable city. But there can be a great sense of absence when winter closes in. And although I feel the inward call to meditation, there is a drivenness inside me that finds it hard to mentally detach and slow down.
I came so close to using The Exponents' 'Christchurch (In Cashel Street I Wait)' as background music, but it was sadly just too loud. Dido's 'Do You Have A Little Time' and Rhian Sheenan's 'Sunshine' won instead. I sneaked an Exponents reference into the poem instead.
God of the Streets
God of the streets
God of the arcades
God of the car parks
God of the escalators
God of the rush and timesheet
God of swept hours and broken minutes
God of appointments and interviews
God of fast food and slow traffic
I hear the quiet calling me
I ache to answer it
I reach for time and miss
My soul is full of noise
I can only offer you
A temporary table
By the window looking out
On a construction site
I'd build you a cathedral
But you said: I'd rather have you