Jul 24, 2023·edited Jul 24, 2023Liked by Caroline Ross
Caroline-
A beautiful reflection and one I feel completely in tune with. I kind of went off on a rant yesterday here on Substack. A somewhat unhinged yang version of this more grounded and yin one. Know the male but keep to the female, as it were. In the midst of it the insight came to me that the internet, all of it, is 'networked disconnection'.
There is a lot of good things that can and have come from this. But we know there is a cost. Many of us feel the price more and more as the gravitational pull of the machine strengthens. As the desire for its true goods, but also false promises and temptations grow. I know I have attempted to 'split the difference' and try to maximize the good and minimize the less good. That can work for a while perhaps--perhaps--but in the end it is, I think, unworkable. The effects of being online so much are just too unmistakable and in the end a net loss...no pun intended (okay, slightly intended).
So, I also feel the need to more fully reinhabit my life again. Like any addict, that is likely to be a bit painful at first. I will fail, and fall off the wagon I am guessing. But that is where I am pointing myself. For example, rather then starting my day with the internet, I went outside in morning darkness with a cup of coffee, and listened to the twittering birds underneath the shelter of the big trees. Ah, this is more like it.
One thing I want to clarify--and, ironically it may take the internet to help me do so--is that I think what I need is a kind of *interpersonal* contemplative practice. Sort of the meditative equivalent of push hands. Rather than put my energy to online endeavors I think about how I could help to form small groups, maybe just 3-5 people to re-learn, or maybe learn for the first time, how to be more fully human together, how to cultivate sharing our lives with one another. To reconnect to our own depths, to each other, to nature, and to the Divine--the unfathomable mystery-- as we understand (or don't understand) "it". How to live within the fruitfulness of unknowing.
Given how I intuit the near future is likely to go (I hope I am wrong) we are going to need this far more than the next great thing the internet coughs up for us. Either way, I know I need to relearn the art of being human in the world. Right now, I am gravitating towards Circling practice, but I am wide open other alternatives.
Lastly, I want to say, though we have only interacted through text on a screen, my sense is that you, Caroline, are a kindred spirit. We may never get to sit by the River Dart, drink tea and have a chat, but I think that would be a lovely time. I wish you nothing but beautiful things in all you do.
-Jack
THREE FRIENDS
There were three friends
Discussing life.
One said:
"Can men [sic] live together
and know nothing of it?
Work together
And produce nothing?
Can they fly around in space
And forget to exist
World without end?
The three friends looked at each other
And burst out laughing
They had no explanation.
Thus they were better friends than before.
--The Way of Chuang Tau (Thomas Merton version).
(As a side note, I studied Cheng Man-Ch'ing Yang Short form 20 years ago. There is a school of the same lineage here. I think if I can swing it I will take that up again. I look forward to it.)
Hey Jack, I feel similarly. A few of us do. Would you drop me an email? Let's talk. Greetings from me in 'it's almost time for a cup of tea' here in Bournemouth.
I do enjoy Uncivil Savant especially after time with you in Dartington. I really relate to your boundaries and edges. Since I returned from England to Australia, I’ve been noticing how my screen time affects my mood.
I’ve discovered therapy lies in twizzleing. I’ve been working with dandelion stems and, with 2 metres ready to go, hope to make a knotted stone before my daughter births her second child.
I’ve also found some good info on plants for cordage here, where First Nations people have twizzled for at least 60 millennia. It’s quite humbling, given White Australia has existed for just 1/4 millennium. Saying no to screens helps.
Thanks so much for this. I have been getting a few notes and emails from attendees about the addictive nature of twizzling since the course... According to my esteemed archaeology friends, people across the world people have been making cordage for hundreds of thousands of years. There is also not a single culture without a tradition of yarn / fibre / cordage / string use. Same goes for song. Interesting, eh?
I guess twizzling and making cord are two hand rhythmic activities? Did you realise there is a McGilchrist ‘twist’ to this? Two hand rhythmic makes the two hemispheres work together, or better said all symmetrical repetitive activities do that. I am planning to write an essay on the phenomenon, because indeed it is addictive in a positive way, it makes you feel good, attentive, balanced. I mentioned this to a seed grower and he immediately identified several of his tasks having this effect on him....
Twizzling is our cute slang for making cordage. And yes, I did know about the reciprocal hand movement benefits regarding the hemispheres. Iain and I have spoken about it at length, including when he was a guest at our T'ai Chi intensive a decade or so ago.
That sense of a two-handed dance is what I love about twizzling. It gets me out of my head! But this morning I read a short non-religious article about rosaries as umbilical chords to the earth and sky. It resonated too, tho I’ve never used a rosary. See: https://braidedway.org/rosary-umbilical-cord-to-the-goddess/
‘The Sage is out of step with the times, but in tune with the tides.’ My morning eyes without glasses on replaced ‘sage’ with ‘sane’ - grateful for this note from the classics, had to share my morning brain’s interpretation... thanks for the sanity Caroline, as ever.
Caroline-
A beautiful reflection and one I feel completely in tune with. I kind of went off on a rant yesterday here on Substack. A somewhat unhinged yang version of this more grounded and yin one. Know the male but keep to the female, as it were. In the midst of it the insight came to me that the internet, all of it, is 'networked disconnection'.
There is a lot of good things that can and have come from this. But we know there is a cost. Many of us feel the price more and more as the gravitational pull of the machine strengthens. As the desire for its true goods, but also false promises and temptations grow. I know I have attempted to 'split the difference' and try to maximize the good and minimize the less good. That can work for a while perhaps--perhaps--but in the end it is, I think, unworkable. The effects of being online so much are just too unmistakable and in the end a net loss...no pun intended (okay, slightly intended).
So, I also feel the need to more fully reinhabit my life again. Like any addict, that is likely to be a bit painful at first. I will fail, and fall off the wagon I am guessing. But that is where I am pointing myself. For example, rather then starting my day with the internet, I went outside in morning darkness with a cup of coffee, and listened to the twittering birds underneath the shelter of the big trees. Ah, this is more like it.
One thing I want to clarify--and, ironically it may take the internet to help me do so--is that I think what I need is a kind of *interpersonal* contemplative practice. Sort of the meditative equivalent of push hands. Rather than put my energy to online endeavors I think about how I could help to form small groups, maybe just 3-5 people to re-learn, or maybe learn for the first time, how to be more fully human together, how to cultivate sharing our lives with one another. To reconnect to our own depths, to each other, to nature, and to the Divine--the unfathomable mystery-- as we understand (or don't understand) "it". How to live within the fruitfulness of unknowing.
Given how I intuit the near future is likely to go (I hope I am wrong) we are going to need this far more than the next great thing the internet coughs up for us. Either way, I know I need to relearn the art of being human in the world. Right now, I am gravitating towards Circling practice, but I am wide open other alternatives.
Lastly, I want to say, though we have only interacted through text on a screen, my sense is that you, Caroline, are a kindred spirit. We may never get to sit by the River Dart, drink tea and have a chat, but I think that would be a lovely time. I wish you nothing but beautiful things in all you do.
-Jack
THREE FRIENDS
There were three friends
Discussing life.
One said:
"Can men [sic] live together
and know nothing of it?
Work together
And produce nothing?
Can they fly around in space
And forget to exist
World without end?
The three friends looked at each other
And burst out laughing
They had no explanation.
Thus they were better friends than before.
--The Way of Chuang Tau (Thomas Merton version).
(As a side note, I studied Cheng Man-Ch'ing Yang Short form 20 years ago. There is a school of the same lineage here. I think if I can swing it I will take that up again. I look forward to it.)
Hey Jack, I feel similarly. A few of us do. Would you drop me an email? Let's talk. Greetings from me in 'it's almost time for a cup of tea' here in Bournemouth.
Caroline, Beautifully written. D
The jug of water, given.
Tap water, taken.
What a difference the clay makes.
Utterly. The interpolation of a filled vessel is at the heart of almost all great rites and all good meals.
I do enjoy Uncivil Savant especially after time with you in Dartington. I really relate to your boundaries and edges. Since I returned from England to Australia, I’ve been noticing how my screen time affects my mood.
I’ve discovered therapy lies in twizzleing. I’ve been working with dandelion stems and, with 2 metres ready to go, hope to make a knotted stone before my daughter births her second child.
I’ve also found some good info on plants for cordage here, where First Nations people have twizzled for at least 60 millennia. It’s quite humbling, given White Australia has existed for just 1/4 millennium. Saying no to screens helps.
T
Thanks so much for this. I have been getting a few notes and emails from attendees about the addictive nature of twizzling since the course... According to my esteemed archaeology friends, people across the world people have been making cordage for hundreds of thousands of years. There is also not a single culture without a tradition of yarn / fibre / cordage / string use. Same goes for song. Interesting, eh?
I guess twizzling and making cord are two hand rhythmic activities? Did you realise there is a McGilchrist ‘twist’ to this? Two hand rhythmic makes the two hemispheres work together, or better said all symmetrical repetitive activities do that. I am planning to write an essay on the phenomenon, because indeed it is addictive in a positive way, it makes you feel good, attentive, balanced. I mentioned this to a seed grower and he immediately identified several of his tasks having this effect on him....
Twizzling is our cute slang for making cordage. And yes, I did know about the reciprocal hand movement benefits regarding the hemispheres. Iain and I have spoken about it at length, including when he was a guest at our T'ai Chi intensive a decade or so ago.
That sense of a two-handed dance is what I love about twizzling. It gets me out of my head! But this morning I read a short non-religious article about rosaries as umbilical chords to the earth and sky. It resonated too, tho I’ve never used a rosary. See: https://braidedway.org/rosary-umbilical-cord-to-the-goddess/
Hopeful and nourishing reflections. Thank you, Caroline.
‘The Sage is out of step with the times, but in tune with the tides.’ My morning eyes without glasses on replaced ‘sage’ with ‘sane’ - grateful for this note from the classics, had to share my morning brain’s interpretation... thanks for the sanity Caroline, as ever.