Buffy redeemed

i’m not really in the mood to write just now, but i have been thinking about some ideas and have so few oportunities to post i thought i ought to take advantage. This post is coming to you courtesy of one Roxanne Hai whose has generously contributed her old IBMThinkpad to the iBook Survivors Support Network. i’m none too comfortable working on a PC, but i’m grateful not to be using a pen to scribble random thoughts on napkins. Needless to say, the Russian was ineffective. i still have some hope for hack fixes, but in the meantime it’s me and the Monster and the cafe (the Monster just beeped at me – do you think it wants something?). Unfortunately it won’t speak with our wireless at home, but i’m hoping to get it an implant that might enhance it’s capacity for love.

So, in the absence of electronic diversion, i retured to my old habit of sitting around and reading a lot. i had forgotten how satisfying such occupation is. Not only do you feel like you’re doing something productive, even if you’re reading the most meanigless fluff, but the stories last like 20 times as long as any movie! This means that, not only is the yearning for more put off for days instead of a mere 2 hours, but the extra time it takes to read each book means that the availability of books you haven’t read is bound to exceed the availability of movies you haven’t seen by, well, a heck of a lot. Even here in Israel where English-language books are only sold in exchange for your first-born child, i’ve managed to come accross enough to keep me entertained for months. But of course, spending all this time reading brings me back to the old question – will Harry Potter lead me to hell just as easily as Buffy? [see "Buffy the Vampire Slayer will lead me to hell" and "The Trappings of Fiction"] i believe the answer, my friends, lies at the intersection of an understanding i came to several months ago and the natural human ability to engage with things like literature, film, and even people with intention and scope broader than that of the immediate object of our attention.

[note: i like the way the Monster has separate buttons for deleting things in front of and behind the cursor]

So. The understanding, first, i think. i’d like to mention here that this understanding is somewhat metaphorical – as, i have found, are many of my understandings these days – and should not be expanded beyond the scope of its applicability. It began with something i heard in a talk about the material world being a facsimile of the spiritual world. Oh! The Monster can run Ocean! “The world of matter is an outer expression or facsimile of the inner kingdom of spirit.” (Abdu’l-Baha, The Promulgation of Universal Peace, p. 270) Upon learning this, i considered and internalized it literally, as has become my habit with the Writings. Unlike those of previous Dispensations, i think, for the large part, we can do that with the Baha’i Scriptures, though it is important not to limit the term “literal” to material manifestation. So if we think of this literally, or at least if i do, what we get is that the spiritual world is reality – something we all know – and this world is a sort of copy of that world – a reissuing of the original, but without many of the qualities that distinguish the actual thing (think color, dimension, etc.). Simplified for the purpose of conveying essential information.

i thought about this in the context of God’s having created us – us, the Universe, and all of material existence – so that we could know Him. God loved us, wanted us to know Him, knew we couldn’t do that directly, so he made the Universe, in this understanding, as a sort of metaphor for the spiritual world and everything in it – souls, God, the Holy Spirit, love, etc. – which we see all over the Holy Scriptures of every age. It is not by coincidence that we can make the Sun represent God, the warmth and light the Holy Spirit, the rays the Manifestations, and the earth the body. God made all of those things to represent the spiritual world so that we could understand Him and it to some degree. By that token, i think it stands to reason that a great many of the things we have created within that creation would serve the same purpose. Particularly those things that are created from a space of healthy spirit, which i think many would agree seem to be inspired by some permutation of divinity.

This is getting long. So my point is that, approached from the appropriate space of learning about God, the universe, and everything, anything that exists in this world should carry with it some avenue to knowing God better. The particular example that spawned this monologue was Harry Potter. i was thinking about how much time i have spent reading those books i don’t know how many times and trying to assess whether all that time should be put in the ‘wasted’ category or whether i might have gleaned something useful from those hours. Okay, days. It was then that i realized (much to my relief) that indeed, there were some basic concepts that people like me are only able to glean from fiction.

A good example would be the idea of a king or lord. Having grown up in a ‘democratic’ society where one is much more likely to belittle than revere the head of state, the idea of a powerful, respected ruler, more capable of holding such a position than those under him, has always been a bit out of my reach. Consequently, when i have prayed, to say “my King” has never really meant anything clear to me. Reading fiction where such kings exist helps me conceptualize that particular attribute of God. Consider the following quote from a prayer of Baha’u'llah (do you like my Ruhi sentence structure?):

“Thou before Whose wisdom the wise falleth short and faileth, before Whose knowledge the learned confesseth his ignorance, before Whose might the strong waxeth weak, before Whose wealth the rich testifieth to his poverty, before Whose light the enlightened is lost in darkness, toward the shrine of Whose knowledge turneth the essence of all understanding and around the sanctuary of Whose presence circle the souls of all mankind.” (Baha’i Prayers, p. 120)

In a society where all men are created equal and in which we spend a great deal of our time and energy affirming to ourselves and asserting to others that we are, in fact, equal if not superior to every other human being on the planet, i’ve never really had the expereince of relating to someone as ‘one of the wise’ or ‘the strong’ or ‘the enlightened’. Western society has pretty much eliminated such societal positions as elders, shamans, wise men, etc. Even those who are considered well-informed can, for the most part, only be said to be so within a limited discipline. But – and bear with me here – when i think of, for example, Dumbledore, who is written exactly for the purpose of filling that role, i have someone to imagine waxing weak, confessing ignorance, and being lost in darkness. In literature, the archetypes whose essential qualities pale so sharply when placed in the light of God’s omnipotence are given form and tangibility that my limited ‘real world’ experience has no space for.

It is for this reason that i would argue that, far from taking us away from reality, fiction – i think probably movies included – can, just like everything else in the universe, help us to know and worship God, if that’s what we’re up to, which is, after all, the point. i get the feeling that, if the material world is a facsimile of the spiritual, fiction is just as much a part of that facsimile as anything else and we can, if we are seeing as we are meant to, see in these things the attributes of God as clearly as in any other part of creation. This is not to say that my tendency to watch Buffy or read Harry Potter instead of saying my obligatory prayers is therefore justifiable. Only that, where before it might have seemed that i was sacrificing moving forward for moving backward, i think now that, in fact, i’m sacrificing moving forward in an preferable and dignified manner for moving forward a bit more clumsily, with less direction, and possibly at great peril. But moving forward nevertheless. Such is the generosity of God.

something to listen to

i tried to embed this video, but it didn’t work, so…you should jsut go to the site. Look around while you’re there *smile*.

Soon, friends, soon

She says hoping not to be made a tease.  i retrieved the data from my computer thanks to the generosity of my friend and colleague, Ms. Nasim Mahboubi.  Everything i have collected from the past 5 years is now on 3 DVDs.  To be fair, the collection has been built from scratch more than once.  In any case, the ibook went to the backalley clinic on Friday.  We’ll see what we learn.  Hopefully we will learn that for 50 shekels, the Russain hacker will reflow the solder on the logic board and Liza will be as good as new.  Or good as 7 years old, anyway.  At least for a little while, which is all i ask for, really.   i’ll keep you posted.  Or not, depending on the outcome.

What do you think?

I’m thinking of reinserting the “B” and the “E” in my name.  On all my formal documents, my name is spelled a-b-b-i-e.  Except my diplomas, i think.  Did you know that?  In 6th grade, i thought my name was too round, so i took the extra letters out.  It worked.  i felt better.  But now, i think it might be good to have a nice round full name, to better match my self.  Especially in consideration of the particular letters B and E (Be) – seem familiar? – that went missing.  So i’d like to know – what do you think?

So there you go.

 

O ye beloved ones! It is the moment of the ecstasy of the soul and consciousness and the season of running in the arena of sacrifice! Show ye kindness to all; be ye engaged in the refinement of the souls. Become ye as ignited lamps and adorn ye the orchard of being! These days are swiftly passing and this mortal life will remain fruitless and without result.  Therefore, while there is yet time and the arrow is in the bow, enter ye the chase and strike ye the game.  This game is the good-pleasure of God, and this chase is the merciful Providence; that is, living accord with the divine instructions.     

 (‘Abdu’l-Bahá, Tablets of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá v3, p. 572)

 

Like a Flock of Seagulls

i woke up at 3:30 again this morning. i assume this is some function of jet lag, but maybe my body is just trying something new. 3:30 am here is 7:30 pm at home in America. That’s no time to get up either. Feeling certain that i should really have more sleep, i laid in bed for about an hour and a half trying to think of ways to rest again, but around 4:45 the birds started screeching and the cats started yowling and the sky began to “pale” and i thought, “well, hell.” So i put my feet on the wall in an effort to treat my poor body to something nice and it occurred to me that what my body would really probably like is some of that Exercise.

Inspired by my friend Leslie, who has, in the last year, taken up running and acquired a magnificently well-formed ass as a result, i put on my Exercise Togs (gifted to me by my mother on my trip home – in the nick of time) and my Shoes, pinned my key on, and headed out in the barely light. i resolved to take it slow, so i walked up the hill that is Abbas street and out to the Main Road, which inclines steadily about halfway up the mountain. The view from there is nice and i passed many lovely flowers and juniper trees. When i got to the cable car joint, i stopped and did the Stretching and wondered at the young Jewish gentleman saying his morning prayers around the corner, after which he promptly sat down to have a smoke.

Then, i undertook to do something i hadn’t done in probably more than a decade. I Ran. Okay i didn’t run so far away, but i ran. And you know what? Nothing happened. My shins didn’t splinter. My knees didn’t come undone. My lungs didn’t explode. I just sweat more and breathed harder and kept running. Admittedly, i’m sure to the untrained eye, my run may have occurred as more of a well-paced jog, but to my untrained body there is no distinction. I Ran.

Now don’t anyone get excited and start inviting me to go running or crap like that. i didn’t enjoy running. I just did it and i might do it again, but i don’t plan to make a habit of it. Largely because i hope soon to be sleeping until 7 again like a normal, happy person. Still, it’s good to know i can do it, that maybe my neglected body isn’t beyond hope and that, if i put in a little extra effort, while i may not return to my former glory, i may be able to salvage some element of my youthful self at least long enough to attract a mate and raise some healthy babies. Incidentally, i just mistyped babies and you know what it spelled? abbies. Go figure.

In America

It’s 3:30 a.m.  i woke up early.  Properly woke up, too.  If it weren’t so early i would just get up and go to work.  As it is, though, the moonlight is shining soothingly through my bedroom window and the most perfect breeze is – dare i say? – “caressing” my skin.

i returned Friday from what now occurs to me like a pilgrimage to the United States.  While that nation and i have our differences – consumerism has reached a staggering state of sprawl and its citizens seem to be suffering under the delusion that they should be entitled to anything and everything they want at whatever time they want it provided they have earned or otherwise acquired the money to pay for it – it is the land where my heart learned to love and when i return there i am reminded by so many people who participated in that education why i must keep going back.

This trip especially felt like a heart and soul odyssey, probably because i had the opportunity to embrace friends from the two most love-filled periods of my life – Texas before college and Chicago during the second go-round.   i feel like a new, or renewed, version of myself, capable of all the things humans can do, excited to tread and dive in the waters of life, and relaxed in the safety of doing so supported by the Divine gifts so clearly manifested in the hearts and arms of the people i love.  Lucky us, man.  Really really lucky us.

Really?

Soooo…i just saw the new Indiana Jones movie.

*cricket chirp*

MmmHmmm. i’m not really…i don’t..i mean…….really? Really? All this time? All those resources? Yeah? This is what they chose to do? Really? i just- i know…you know…we can’t…George Lucas and…obviously not sane, but…really?

*Sigh*

In the interest of not fault-finding, i’ve chosen to post only the ten best things about this movie, from best to…least best.

1. Shia LeBeouf. To be fair, this may be leftover love from Transformers.

2. The score. Yeah, mmhm. It’s the same score(s).

3. Greasers vs. Squares bar fight.

4. Long pause on photograph of Sean Connery, who still looks good even though he’s 110.

5. Uhhh…they…advanced the time period to accomodate Harrison Ford’s age…or at least part of it…

6. umm…well, ahhrm…so, maybe for 6-10 we just revisit 1-5. oh! and the previews.

Gav, i call on you now. i need film therapy. In all seriousness (well as much as i can muster), in the context of being a lover of motion pictures, i feel violated. Truly. Like i got tricked into watching George Lucas and Steven Spielberg wank each other off.  Betrayed-and it’s not like i had put a whole lot of faith in here…i mean…i remember the rebirth of Star Wars. But this…i don’t think this kind of thing gets forgiven, you know? i think it’s over for me. And that’s a damn shame, ’cause they really paved the way for indefinite revivals.

In other news, it’s wood burning eve in Israel, so the whole city smells like a campfire. It’s alright now, but it means that tomorrow we will all smell like we’ve been camping. Not so nice. For more on wood burning holiday, you can visit the “Did you know?” page to which i will not link because the tab is 5 inches away.

Also, i am having my tumor removed on Monday. Just a little incision, local anesthetic, but it’s the first time i’ve been cut on, so i’m a little sad. However, and in this connection, my skin has cleared up and my limp has gone away, so i must have done something to please the volatile distributor of curses. i may turn out to be a beautiful princess after all…

am i doing this right?

Sometimes i think i’m really not so well cut out to be a human being-like maybe this just isn’t the right gig for me. Maybe i would be better at, say, vampire or wizard or superhero. Something that comes with a tradecard-sized summary of strengths and weaknesses that will always hold true unless their very temporary failure is somehow essential to a brief and somewhat predictable plot; something with a clearly defined and reasonably, though not oppressively limited role in the big, but recognizable picture. i could have compadres with equally useful, but not overlapping contributions to make to the achievement of some finite goal that we would all feel good about when we returned to status quo to await the next big adventure. Our contribution to humanity would be clear and we would never have to ask ourselves whether we were doing the right thing because, obviously, if we were using our superpowers to promote good and defeat evil-which would come conveniently packaged in a villain or natural disaster and would NEVER encroach on our own beings-we would be on the right track and whatever Powers might be would be pleased with us and give us a High-Five.

Instead i’m here and regular human and all the things that define heroes and villains are all mixed up in my single self, avoiding each other at all costs, and, while i recognize that this is true for all of us, i feel from time to time like i’m just not doing it right. i can’t seem to distinguish anything and i’m never really sure whether i’m doing God’s will (the right thing) or if i’m really fucking something, or worse someone, up because i can’t see the big picture because i am just a silly, earthbound civilian. And while people around me seem to engage with this circumstance, albeit with widely varying degrees of cognizance and success, i am not really confident that i am engaging at all. i’m thinking about it quite a lot and i often get excited about the whole project, or the idea of it. But on the ground, few things really mean anything specific to me and i can’t seem to get a handle on the whole feelings thing. It’s not (as some might argue) that i don’t feel or that nothing means anything to me. Quite the opposite. Well, not the opposite, but i do have feelings, though they tend not to be strong enough to effect my behavior, and i find that people and some other things are very important in my life, but that importance doesn’t really seem to have any direct relationship to how i value them.

On good days, all this simply seems like a perfectly reasonable and balanced nature – laid back, detached, pragmatic – and i have often been praised for my ability to remain objective in almost any situation. On other days, i’m faced with the reality that, while i may know that i care about someone or something personally, when that caring does not translate into action of some predetermined kind, peoples’ feelings get hurt. It is on days like these that i feel most inept at being human. On the worst days, i long to be something else – a resident in some simpler and much more finely elucidated world. When i first started watching Dexter, i thought i might be a serial killer [objectively, i find the possibility of perceiving one way of being in so many different ways linguistically remarkable and hope to address it and Dexter further when my head feels a bit straighter]. But then i didn’t kill anyone and, more importantly, had no desire to do so. Even when people really suck, i would much rather them just stop sucking than fall victim to my inhuman wrath. As it happens, these things prove equally unlikely as sucky people rarely experience sudden turnarounds and i don’t think i have experienced even the preliminary stages of wrath in my adult life. Irritation seems to be about as far as it goes. Perplexity is far more common-as it is with Dexter the serial killer. But not to worry (about me killing someone, anyway), that seems to be all we have in common.

All this to say that i always feel a severe uneasiness whenever i post anything that addresses anyone besides myself (see: can we STOP?) because i’m not at all convinced that i’m any good at this being human thing and am exponentially unconvinced that i am in any position to suggest to others how they should go about it. Nevertheless, understandings seem to come that seem true and i am left with the literally agonizing question of whether and how to express them in the face of my experience of ineptitude. This seems to find two solutions – either i go back to writing about myself (as witnessed here) or i continue with uncertain nervousness to try to say what i think (John Amir Abbassi seems to fall victim to this method frequently. He humors me very kindly and doesn’t interrupt me when i get too busy tripping over my ill-conceived ideas to properly engage in conversation. Thanks, friend.) Ironically, it is probably only my desire to be something besides human that has me be so uncomfortable with the pitfalls of humanness in the first place. Just another way Buffy has led me to hell (see also “The Trappings of Fiction”).

i once hoped that all this confusion probably meant that i was a genius (which is a kind of superhero, hmm?) but having been in the company of geniuses i have had to accept that this is not the case and that i may simply be lame or broken or, more likely, cheating or misunderstanding the rules (i seem to score with inexplicable regularity). But then, maybe this is all just part of the game and i’m playing just fine, or even well.  If that’s the case, though, it sure would be helpful if i could sometimes just get that High-Five.

can we STOP?

Stop trying to be prettier the next girl or smarter since we’re not? Stop trying to find out why x likes y but not me? Stop trying to look cool and stop trying to be cool? And ditto for intellectual, clever, sexy, enlightened, refined, or anything else someone else who doesn’t know told us we were supposed to want to be? and also for detached, spiritual, wise, righteous or anything else that we don’t know how to identify anyway? Can we STOP trying to make other people look bad to make ourselves look good? Can we stop trying to look good full stop? Stop trying to dominate, to validate, justify, exalt, convince, impress, or through other means prove that we are superior, equal, or in any other manner ranked against our fellow human beings? Can we stop dismissing, disapproving, dismantling, and discouraging? Can we stop acting like we know what the hell we’re doing and just start doing something useful? Can we remember that we are all in this together? Can we support each other, encourage each other, reinforce each other, and redeem each other? Can we do that for other people without needing, hoping, expecting, or even wanting them to return the favor? Can we stop seeing it as a favor and start acknowledging it as a responsibility? Can we really trust God and uphold His standard and stop settling for ‘well no one can be perfect’? Have we ever even tried? Can we believe what we say about equality and love and unity and behave accordingly? Believe what They say about fault-finding and offending hearts, the urgency of our task and the power of our characters? Nevermind try now. As a wise muppet once said, “do or do not. There is no try.” Maybe it’s time to stop giving ourselves an option. We have to know by now this is the only way out.