The Beautiful Smallness of Largeness

We only become more of who we are by opening to the world and opening it up to others.

I’ve worked to find a way to formulate this, and Roberto Unger’s book “The Religion of The Future” (a heavy read but worth it if you’re into religion and psychology) helps. Unger’s idea of a deliberately-constructed religion is one that confronts the impermanence and unsurety of the world to construct a society that would let us grow and develop, being more godlike by being more human. As I put it with affectionate snark, he starts with Buddhist realizations, imagines a functional society with Confucian precision, leading to a world where we hope to evolve ourselves and each other in freedom towards salvation reminiscent of some radical Christian sects.

Unger, even if I question some of his work and opinions, is a deep believer in humanity, and a future and world for all. He wants us to see the spirit, the divine spark, in ourselves and others and to evolve it. If anything, I’d argue his work doesn’t go deep enough into exploring how a view of “let all evolve” is a *spiritual necessity for development* – something I’ve long considered. And now he gives me a launch point I needed.

For those of us familiar with Buddhism and some later syncretic Taoism, the idea of “liberating all” is a vital part of doctrine. One does not just aspire to be liberated from suffering or Attain the Tao, or whatever and walk away. One wishes it for all people, all beings, and in that way, we step out of the shell of our limited ideas of self.

For that, we must walk into the world, and deal with people. We must wish the best for them, not in condescension or false feeling, but on our journey. We have to confront difficult and even dangerous people. This takes us outside of ourselves, our comfort zones. We feel empathy, we put down our barriers, by imagining a world where everyone is “more human and thus more divine.”

Each time we do this, something in us cracks. Boundaries go down. Understanding of people goes up – and thus understanding of ourselves. We remember that we are not separate from the world, we are part of it in a kind of dialogue. We are reminded of how we can evolve and grow – and we do.

Yet, strangely, we also get smaller. We’re less inclined to coddle our biases and bigotries. We’ve got less defined borders. So much of “us” is defined as “not being them” or “not being that” and those are burdens. By letting go so much of us, we become less of what we think we are and more of what we are and who we can be.

You only get to the top by going towards the bottom. So many religious and spiritual practices reminds us to help others, to be engaged in real life, to be there, among the dirt and sadness and reality. That cracks our shells and breaks us so the real us can emerge.

It’s difficult of course. Society is challenging. People can be assholes. But how we relate to people and what kind of world we build is part of our spiritual journey. We just have to figure how to deal with the pathological societies and individuals we face – and how such journeys can help us and others grow. No one said it would be easy, there are no guarantees.

I’d rather become small to become large than walk around in random shackles history gave me.

Xenofact

Nobody Knows What Things Are For

A while ago someone on Mastodon posted a comment about how people “Don’t know what things are for” when it comes to our so-called leaders. I mean yeah some people know how to make money, but don’t know why things are. They try to get money out of things but don’t care or know.

That kept sitting in my head. People “not knowing what something is for.”

I used to enjoy the show “Dirty Jobs” because it gave me a view into how things worked – what they were for. After watching some poor roadwork in the city I lived in, I took an interest in urban planning and learned more about what things are for. As a Project Manager, I am about getting things done, about what things are for.

And that’s me. I’m sure you have had plenty of experience knowing “what things are for” on the job, in your hobbies, in your life. Some of us grow up in places where it’s part of the fabric of life, from farms to ports to plain historic cities. A lot of us know what things are for.

And, when you know what things are for, you also realize that yes, that person I mentioned was right. A lot of people don’t know what things are for and are making at best bad decisions – at worse just destroying things for greed. Usually seems to be the latter.

Once you see it, it’s hard to unsee it. Communities with people and history fearing data centers will drain their power and water, making them not a place just a host. Farms vanishing into giant agribusinesses. The stock market is even more gambling than it ever ones, and real gambling via online apps seems to turn the world into a casino and not a world. Things are stopping being what they are and are just about money or fame or clicks.

It’s a socio-cultural-economic gray goo. It’s turning things into nothing by people who don’t know what things are for.

But when things stop being what they are, then people stop being anything. Who are you in a world where your job is to train a so-called AI to replace you? Where’s a community when it’s just Influencers selling to each other? Who are you in a world where people don’t know what anything is for?

When no one knows what things are for, then people cease being people.

It’s a peculiarly meaningless world some of our so-called leaders have and want. No wonder so many of them seem so empty and angry – their lives are meaningless. No wonder so many of them fall into conspiratorial politics and grandiose racisms, trying to look for some meaning as well as explaining away people hating them. These people who don’t know what anything are for want to be something, something more than nepo babies or knob twiddlers who got lucky.

Those that build a world not knowing what anything is for aren’t anyone.

Xenofact

Head Full of Ghosts

If you’ve done any form of meditation or therapy you know about those complexes in your mind. The fears, the obsessions, the habits that take over so much of our life, probably more than we want to admit.

It’s like having a head full of ghosts.

These aren’t the cool ghosts either. There’s no dramatic revelations of the past or lineage. They aren’t some vital spirits directing us to a better life after three disparate visions. None of these ghosts is delivering useful advice. Not a single one resembles Patrick Swayze.

Honestly, these ghosts in our head, these habits and neuroses, are boring and pathetic.

They’re mechanical and repetitive. They run on tracks burrowed into our mind, clockwork-clicking along whatever path set out by our past experiences. They are powerful, they are annoying, but they’re also not that interesting or unique. The reruns of the soul.

They’re often quite pathetic. A bad experience here, a grudge there, something we didn’t acknowledge in the past. Even the horrible ones are sad, the results of our bad choices or the cruelty of others. There’s something invalid about them, and we fear, about ourselves.

They’re damaging. They hurt us, obsess us, misdirect us, but not in any cool way. They’re often stupidly self-destructive – of ourselves and even themselves. They negate themselves yet always resurrect.

But worse of all these Ghosts, these complexes and obsessions of the past are so empty.

There’s nothing to them. No acknowledgement of reality, even when reality triggers them. They don’t grow. They aren’t relevant even if perhaps they once had reason to exist. When we acknowledge them, their shallowness is stunning. Here we are, people, and we have to share our head with these phantoms.

It’s humiliating. These mechanical, harmful, phantasms drive so much of our life and don’t deserve to. I once read someone discussing the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism, and decided to translate what is usually interpreted as craving as humiliation, and I get that.

I find looking at this emptiness, this voidness of our complexes helps me deal with them. When you see their shallowness and pointlessness, you can overcome them. Not necessarily by great exertion or cultivation (though it may help) but by just seeing through them and deciding to move on.

They seem to shrink when you do that. Probably because your attention and ignorance was the only thing keeping them going.

Xenofact