What exactly is pothos? In Greek mythology, pothos is longing--it's a longing, a desire to posess that which is unattainable.
Doing more reading about pothos, I came across a neat article at terrapsych.com along the lines of a longing for a "lost" ecology. It made me wonder--if pothos embodies what is absent and cannot be attained, is it fair to say that pothos is a constant in and of itself? It must always be present in one form or another for human beings. We are always wanting for things that we cannot have.
The article also touched on the theme of "wandering". Is pothos the wandering soul? Is pothos part of the archetypal nomad? And, are we all archetypal nomads when it comes to wanting things that we'll never attain?
Sorry for the rambling.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Rubies in the Shadow
I was thinking about Pothos today; the notion of "wanting", the impossibility of love. Impossible love--the longing and desire that will never be quenched. It's a notion that my brother Zach and I have kicked around in the past. We wondered why love was going wrong--why crushes are doomed to always be just that and never more. Why is it that the people you truly fall in love with aren't the ones that you've been fawning over? Relationships are never created on burning desires-that's unrequited love. Is it that the "pothos" that grows and manifests in the soul as a crush can never be returned; is it the fact that's it's been created its dooming factor? And what makes the heart and soul do these things?
I was reading some Hillman and he brought up a great point about the gems in the darkness; those things that hide within our shadows are what actually define who we are and are "clarified" (JH) in the end.
When in the throes of pothos, the spots that shine aren't the the gems in the shadows. So, therefore, is it that what "shines" in the heat of pothos is simply a creation of a person that we've made within ourselves and projected upon our desired one? Pothos in ourselves is us--in love with an idea. In love with an idea that doesn't exist and never will. Pothos doesn't see the shadow. But what of the shadows? In love, Hillman encourages us not to run from the shadows.
So, when we think of our shadows, what about them is it that helps define who we are? How do we embrace the so-called "rubies in the shadow"?
I was reading some Hillman and he brought up a great point about the gems in the darkness; those things that hide within our shadows are what actually define who we are and are "clarified" (JH) in the end.
When in the throes of pothos, the spots that shine aren't the the gems in the shadows. So, therefore, is it that what "shines" in the heat of pothos is simply a creation of a person that we've made within ourselves and projected upon our desired one? Pothos in ourselves is us--in love with an idea. In love with an idea that doesn't exist and never will. Pothos doesn't see the shadow. But what of the shadows? In love, Hillman encourages us not to run from the shadows.
So, when we think of our shadows, what about them is it that helps define who we are? How do we embrace the so-called "rubies in the shadow"?
Saturday, February 16, 2008
In Search of the Puer Aeturnus
Something inside reads like a want-ad: Seeking, youth and vitality amidst daily responsibility, maturity. Fighting off stagnation. How can we find and internally balance the puer (youth) and the senex (aged) within us all?
This may or may not be a thought geared more towards women. I was watching a program about the Eagles today (deduce that yes, I shouldn't drown my brain in television, but that I really do)and I noticed a certain sparkle about them, a certain youth. Something carefree. It seems that within themselves, aside from the responsibilities of daily life, drives them to exhibit a picture of ease. Sometimes I wonder why I am drawn to older men, but today I think I found the answer to that question: older men embody the puer senex; the fountain of youth within the aged. How is it that an older man may view his life? Perhaps as, (best put by Ol' Blue Eyes) "Vintage wine from fine old kegs"?
Vintage wine it may be, but never sour grapes. What is in in the male collective psyche that allows the senex to be "Peter Pan"? Men (though not all men--some have dried up and caved to miserly life-partners or become slaves to their professions) have always remembered to play. Men have played throughout their lives--they played cops and robbers as children; they played sports as teenagers; they played at chasing women. Men played in bars and in exotic dance clubs; they played poker and foosball and pool. Men played on palm-pilots; men played with dogs at home and children and then played with crossword puzzles until their eyelids grew weary. Men dabbled in playing with musical instruments. Men played with ideas. Men always, no matter what they were doing, took the time to play. They did not regret that they spent the time playing.
And what did we do? We did not play. We worked at work and we worked at home. We did the laundry when we should have been reading or singing or lying on the beach burning to a crisp. We worked when we needed money; we worked when we didn't need a thing. We worked when we should have been at home. Most of all--we worked when we should have been playing. We didn't throw Frisbees to dogs; we didn't ride our bikes; we didn't read books. We didn't walk in the park. We worried. We worried about the rains drenching our blown-out hair and grabbed newspapers to cover our heads. But we didn't read the newspapers. God, we didn't even do the crosswords.
Instead, we watched the ink from the papers pool on to the kitchen floor. We watched the words and the articles and the funnies slip away. And then we scrubbed the floors. And we complained. And when we were done, we didn't put our feet up. When the paper came the next day, we didn't stop to read a thing. And we still didn't do the crosswords.
Senseless rambling on my part, perhaps, but where is the youth of today's modern woman? So pressured to be all that we can be, we forget to take that vacation or even to take that five-minute chocolate-bar break. When we so carelessly gloss over the screaming child inside, we harden ourselves. Our puer is crushed. And how do we flourish when we are constantly shutting ourselves down?
This may or may not be a thought geared more towards women. I was watching a program about the Eagles today (deduce that yes, I shouldn't drown my brain in television, but that I really do)and I noticed a certain sparkle about them, a certain youth. Something carefree. It seems that within themselves, aside from the responsibilities of daily life, drives them to exhibit a picture of ease. Sometimes I wonder why I am drawn to older men, but today I think I found the answer to that question: older men embody the puer senex; the fountain of youth within the aged. How is it that an older man may view his life? Perhaps as, (best put by Ol' Blue Eyes) "Vintage wine from fine old kegs"?
Vintage wine it may be, but never sour grapes. What is in in the male collective psyche that allows the senex to be "Peter Pan"? Men (though not all men--some have dried up and caved to miserly life-partners or become slaves to their professions) have always remembered to play. Men have played throughout their lives--they played cops and robbers as children; they played sports as teenagers; they played at chasing women. Men played in bars and in exotic dance clubs; they played poker and foosball and pool. Men played on palm-pilots; men played with dogs at home and children and then played with crossword puzzles until their eyelids grew weary. Men dabbled in playing with musical instruments. Men played with ideas. Men always, no matter what they were doing, took the time to play. They did not regret that they spent the time playing.
And what did we do? We did not play. We worked at work and we worked at home. We did the laundry when we should have been reading or singing or lying on the beach burning to a crisp. We worked when we needed money; we worked when we didn't need a thing. We worked when we should have been at home. Most of all--we worked when we should have been playing. We didn't throw Frisbees to dogs; we didn't ride our bikes; we didn't read books. We didn't walk in the park. We worried. We worried about the rains drenching our blown-out hair and grabbed newspapers to cover our heads. But we didn't read the newspapers. God, we didn't even do the crosswords.
Instead, we watched the ink from the papers pool on to the kitchen floor. We watched the words and the articles and the funnies slip away. And then we scrubbed the floors. And we complained. And when we were done, we didn't put our feet up. When the paper came the next day, we didn't stop to read a thing. And we still didn't do the crosswords.
Senseless rambling on my part, perhaps, but where is the youth of today's modern woman? So pressured to be all that we can be, we forget to take that vacation or even to take that five-minute chocolate-bar break. When we so carelessly gloss over the screaming child inside, we harden ourselves. Our puer is crushed. And how do we flourish when we are constantly shutting ourselves down?
Friday, February 8, 2008
Technology and Culture
The topic of the week (in the peripheral round-table of my mind)is technology and culture. It's weird how this started, but the other day got me thinking about how the two are related as well as the effects each has on the other.
So, anyway. I was in the car listening to a Monkees song called "Saturday's Child". Different types of girls are described in the song, and one of the lines is, "...if you love a Wednesday, you'll live your life apart now...". When I heard that line I started thinking about what would entail "living your life apart" at the time when the song was recorded (the mid 1960s). Conducting a relationship while not actually being in the same zip code as your significant other isn't as tough as it used to be. In fact, it's done quite often. We use cell phones to call or text whenever we like; we use the internet to email, send instant messages, sent clips of ourselves on video as well as sound bytes. We even use a web cam while we chat so that the person with whom we're chatting can see us.
But think back to the '60s. How did you conduct a long-distance relationship? By phone? Well, you had to actually both be by a phone at the same time--you couldn't even leave a message, because there were no answering machines. I suppose someone could have chosen to use letter-writing as a satisfactory medium with which to conduct a relationship (and I'm sure people did), but how long could a serious relationship survive and thrive? With no actual contact to the other person, how would you keep the connection?
Having thought about all of this, I started to ponder how technology has changed our world. All of those long-distance relationships that now survive may surely have been yesterday's news 50 years ago.
It's not just about romantic relationships, it's about bonds; it's about how we live our lives and how we transmit information to one another. Technology is such a huge part of our lives. Just receiving information via the internet alone astounds me. Imagine, almost everything I ever wanted to know is right at my fingertips. I just search and click...and follow links, and gain more knowledge. Then I transmit that information to others via email, instant messages, and text messages. People create entire networks and communities through technology.
The downside, however, is that actual face-to-face socializing is scaled back. Robert Putnam wrote a great book called, "Bowling Alone," which is based on the premise that all though more people are bowling now than ever before, there are less bowling leagues. Therefore, our social structures are slowly being eroded due to more emphasis on the individual. Communities don't have much to hold them together because people don't *need* to have community functions. People don't need to go out and make friends with their neighbors--they can make friends on the internet.
Here we see a shift in demographics as well as a change in the landscape of social groups. What types of social groups do you belong to? I don't belong to any, as far as I can see. And most of the friends that I keep in touch with, I do it via email, text and instant message, and even the dreaded myspace.
I guess that brings us full-circle to the original thought about how technology helps keep people together. I do my networking online. Though, this begs the question; if I didn't have a computer, would I strengthen my social circle in person? Do I miss out on something by not doing this? Or, maybe I wouldn't have a social circle?
Does technology change culture, or does culture change technology? Something to think about.
So, anyway. I was in the car listening to a Monkees song called "Saturday's Child". Different types of girls are described in the song, and one of the lines is, "...if you love a Wednesday, you'll live your life apart now...". When I heard that line I started thinking about what would entail "living your life apart" at the time when the song was recorded (the mid 1960s). Conducting a relationship while not actually being in the same zip code as your significant other isn't as tough as it used to be. In fact, it's done quite often. We use cell phones to call or text whenever we like; we use the internet to email, send instant messages, sent clips of ourselves on video as well as sound bytes. We even use a web cam while we chat so that the person with whom we're chatting can see us.
But think back to the '60s. How did you conduct a long-distance relationship? By phone? Well, you had to actually both be by a phone at the same time--you couldn't even leave a message, because there were no answering machines. I suppose someone could have chosen to use letter-writing as a satisfactory medium with which to conduct a relationship (and I'm sure people did), but how long could a serious relationship survive and thrive? With no actual contact to the other person, how would you keep the connection?
Having thought about all of this, I started to ponder how technology has changed our world. All of those long-distance relationships that now survive may surely have been yesterday's news 50 years ago.
It's not just about romantic relationships, it's about bonds; it's about how we live our lives and how we transmit information to one another. Technology is such a huge part of our lives. Just receiving information via the internet alone astounds me. Imagine, almost everything I ever wanted to know is right at my fingertips. I just search and click...and follow links, and gain more knowledge. Then I transmit that information to others via email, instant messages, and text messages. People create entire networks and communities through technology.
The downside, however, is that actual face-to-face socializing is scaled back. Robert Putnam wrote a great book called, "Bowling Alone," which is based on the premise that all though more people are bowling now than ever before, there are less bowling leagues. Therefore, our social structures are slowly being eroded due to more emphasis on the individual. Communities don't have much to hold them together because people don't *need* to have community functions. People don't need to go out and make friends with their neighbors--they can make friends on the internet.
Here we see a shift in demographics as well as a change in the landscape of social groups. What types of social groups do you belong to? I don't belong to any, as far as I can see. And most of the friends that I keep in touch with, I do it via email, text and instant message, and even the dreaded myspace.
I guess that brings us full-circle to the original thought about how technology helps keep people together. I do my networking online. Though, this begs the question; if I didn't have a computer, would I strengthen my social circle in person? Do I miss out on something by not doing this? Or, maybe I wouldn't have a social circle?
Does technology change culture, or does culture change technology? Something to think about.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
It's the New Style!
This is the first post in my new blog. I lost all of the pertinent information for my other blog (ie; username, email address, and password) so I can't log in (pretty smart, huh?).
So, here's the new one. All I have to say is, it's all about the Ellsbury Dough Boy! Ok, he's not doughy, but he's an Ellsbury and a boy. And he's on fiyah!
So, here's the new one. All I have to say is, it's all about the Ellsbury Dough Boy! Ok, he's not doughy, but he's an Ellsbury and a boy. And he's on fiyah!
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