perspective

weekly reflection, updates & good stuff 5.11.2021

Friends, 

My introduction to “New Age” ideas came, rather unexpectedly, from my fiercely-observant-Catholic mother. She gave me a copy of The Celestine Prophecy for Christmas when I was in college, the recommendation of the bookstore staffer when my mom queried a suggestion for her religion-and-philosophy-dork of a son (#me). I started reading it and kept asking my mom why she bought it for me, wondering if she knew what it was about - an adventure to reveal nine spiritual insights in an ancient manuscript in Peru, insights into the nature of consciousness and that challenge political and religious authorities’ grip on society. You know, like Indiana Jones on a yoga pilgrimage. Like other books that straddle the line between pop spirituality and self-help, it professed to offer, or at least lead to, answers. But to get the real answer...I was going to have to buy the sequel. (It’s since inspired a global community, a series of books, and a whole host of events. The Celestine Economy.) That’s where it lost me - I’m no cynic, but when you package spiritual discourse in retail capitalism so neatly, it’s hard to see a path to enlightenment beyond the path to someone else’s profit.

The book didn’t give me any answers (not to questions I was asking, anyway), but it did plant a seed in my mind. Not a seed (I’m struggling to bridge the metaphors here, so I’ll just say it) but a lens. Why not consider things like energy fields and flow? Why not allow for variations in understanding of consciousness and reality? Why not challenge the Freudian-Jungian stranglehold on psychology? Why not consider that truth might come in waves, that it wasn’t all exposed in the Vedas or the Torah, in the Buddha’s teaching or the Christ’s example? Or that new methods, new angles, might be helpful in understanding old practices and inherited ideas? That lens didn’t bring me to answers - it only brought me to more (and occasionally better and deeper) questions...and a deep suspicion of anyone who professes absolute certainty about, well, anything. Anyone promising an answer, I came to understand, is either aiming to manipulate me or is still out wandering and is selling their destinations prematurely.

Over the last couple of weeks, I was reminded of my initial encounter with The Celestine Prophecy while watching videos that were part of Cat Dillon’s Routines & Rituals Symposium. Through a series of interviews, Cat developed a dialogue about using meaningful practices (you know, routines and rituals) to effect meaningful change and motivation in one’s own life. Each interview included some exploration into the experiences of interviewees, which revealed the true range of the group - from an anthropologist in the Andes reflecting on her history of addiction to a motivational speaker who taught transcendental meditation with Maharishi. Not gonna lie - more than once, I raised an eyebrow at New Agey ideas like the focus on energies and a detailed explanation of why 5G is bad for us. I didn’t pounce on those ideas, though. Instead, I was suddenly aware of latent biases I have yet to excavate and abolish. For me, the pluralist worldview I claim comes with the conviction that there's no one way, no “right” way to explore and engage the sacred...but once in a while I can’t resist the urge to point out the “wrong” ways to do it. Reacting as I did, I wasn’t being a very good pluralist.

It’s too easy for me to laugh off what initially strikes me as a silly idea, but as human history teaches us (and the last year and a half has magnified) institutional(ly propagated) truths haven’t revealed all the answers yet, and the traditional arbiters of power too quickly and too quietly stifle questions. Listening to those interviews, I found myself connecting to these new ideas because of one truth they did reveal: we’re all in the business of finding peace. We all had different starting points and different techniques, but we’re all offering our experience of it and scaling up something that was, at least for me and at least for a moment, good and true. When our differing experiences of “good” and true” bump up against each other, we have a choice. We could laugh each other off and dismiss each other’s experience and perspective. Meh. We could wrestle to convince each other of (or make the other submit to) our disparate and limited perspectives on the truth. Or, in the words of Parker Palmer, we could turn to wonder.

UPCOMING

UPDATES

Guided meditations via Zoom continue on Mondays at 4:00pm PST and on Thursdays at 9:00am PST! These morning (on the West Coast)/mid-day (on the East Coast)/evening (wherever else you might be) sessions will be just like the Monday session - our aim is to practice being present and finding a little peace and quiet. If you or someone you know could use a 20-30 minute dose of peace and quiet on Mondays or Thursdays, visit the meditation page on my site to sign up

Summer planning is underway! Why not add some meaningful conversation along the way? Symposia bring people together to explore a topic from different angles. Check out my website for more information and to sign up. Symposia are limited to 10 participants and need 4 to run. Upcoming Symposia:  

Good Stuff: talking about listening, seeing, feeling, and other ings. Each Good Stuff symposium explores a different variety of things to talk about - music, videos, art, excerpts from books and blogs, poems, ideas, questions...it’s all driven by what’s on my mind and what’s interesting to the group. Interested about exploring new stuff and generating lovely and lively conversations about it? I have four Good Stuff symposia pencilled in on Wednesdays this summer: 

  • Good Stuff V (Wednesdays June 2, 9, 16 & 23)

  • Good Stuff VI (Wednesdays: July 14, 21, 28 & August 4)

  • Good Stuff VII (Wednesdays, August 11, 18, 25 & September 1

  • Good Stuff VIII (Wednesdays: August 8, 15, 22 & 29)

Rituals, ceremonies, traditions: starting points for understanding, engaging, and constructing ritual life (Thursdays: July 15, July 22, July 29, August 5) 

  • The Rituals symposium will introduce “performance theory” and apply it to get a deeper understanding of the meaning and impact of rituals and formal events in our lives. If you’re interested in learning about ritual from a different angle or want to adapt or update a tradition, let’s connect on Thursdays in July!

Madonna: a case study in religion & pop culture (Thursdays: August 12, 19, 26 & September 2)

  • “From ‘Holiday’ to ‘Medellin,’ when it comes to pop I’m still your queen.” So sang the queens of RuPaul’s Drag Race Season 12 in “Madonna: The Unauthorized Rusical.” We’ll look at four particular threads that run through her career - Madonna as social commentator, cultural parasite, reinventor, and catalyst of postmodernism - by diving deep into her music and videos and unpacking often-missed and -misunderstood symbolism and juxtaposition. Along the way, we’ll get a better understanding of how artists spur us to create, critique, and reconstruct culture. 

Miss Jean Brodie is past her prime: teachers in film (Thursdays: September 9, 16, 23 & 30)

  • Sages, mentors, innovators, boundary breakers, meth addicts...what does the depiction of teachers in movies tell us about the real lives of teachers? Not much, but it does tell us a lot about how teachers are perceived in American culture. We’ll explore eight seminal films, reminisce about our own memorable teachers, and think about what it all tells us 

GOOD STUFF

Explore
One of the good things that came out of 2020 was the explosion of interest in supporting the work of artists of color. Somewhere along the way, I started following the Strange Fire Collective, a group of artists who “seek to create a venue for work that critically questions the dominant social hierarchy and are dedicated to highlighting work made by women, people of color and queer and trans artists.” Their website is a treasure trove - profiles of artists, examples of work, access to information, and educational resources and the collective’s Instagram posts are a welcome addition to my feed, highlighting artists, upcoming events and exhibits, and just making the instaworld more beautiful.

Listen 
We’re all at different stages of reentry into society (some never had the luxury of hiding from it), but. for those of us who maybe enjoyed physical distance from the world a little too much (#introverts), having a mantra to cling to, to whisper to oneself when navigating the assault of stimuli and interactions that await, can be helpful. I love stumbling into a song that gives me such a mantra - a lyric that is elegant and memorable, that somehow resonates with the pulse I need to keep me calm, breathing, and open. Sufjan Stevens’ “Love Yourself” is one that stills me and makes me sit, listen, and breathe. Each verse echoes the title as a mantra and floats a few other images and ideas, but nothing distracts from the core message. It’s like Sufjan really, really wants you to love yourself. Thanks for the reminder, Sufjan. 

If you stream music on Spotify, I’ve started a playlist called “Bill’s Good Stuff,” including music I’ve loved for a long time as well as things I’ve come across more recently. Feel free to add the playlist to your favorites! Bill’s Good Stuff Spotify Playlist

Read
For this week’s meditation, I used a poem by Mary Oliver. 

“The Hummingbird”

It’s morning, and again I am that lucky person who is in it.
And again it is spring, 
and there are the apple trees, 
and the hummingbird in its branches. 
On the green wheel of his wings
he hurries from blossom to blossom, 
which is his work, that he might live. 

He is a gatherer of the fine honey of promise, 
and truly I go in envy
of the ruby fire at his throat,
and his accurate, quick tongue,
and his single-mindedness.

Meanwhile the knives of ambition are stirring
down there in the darkness behind my eyes, 
and I should go inside now to my desk and my pages.
But still I stand under the trees, happy and desolate,
wanting for myself such a satisfying coat
and brilliant work.

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