Staving Off The Night...

Our world is changing...

For good or ill, I have not the insight or the arrogance to say. Change for the sake of change is simply foolish, but then so is complacency for its own sake. While most of us have a desire to fight shifts in the political, cultural, physical and personal landscape, such shifts are inevitable. Nothing, except extinction, can really stop it. Fear usually stems from the fears of change. For in that fear lies the deepest fear of all: loss... loss of life, property, love... self. Fear is unknown, and that is simply why so many fear the night, the primeval unknown. And the future? The ultimate unknown. Hence the debates, some civil, some outrageous, about futures we can and cannot control. In truth, while we say we control our own destiny (oft cliched thanks to sporting events), only the present moment is under our direct control. That is the choice we have... the only choice. If in that moment, the future changes, well... so be it. Such becomes the nature of our existence along the roads we travel, literally and metaphorically. The Holmesian mirror of hindsight can temper new choices, open up new pathways, but in the end, the speed at which present and future collide can overwhelm even the most logical and stoic of philosophers just as it blinds almost every romantic... and most of us in-between. Change... change is our blessing and curse... one of many unique gifts, this capacity of will. Certainly not our greatest gift (in my rather minority opinion), but good enough at times for us to perceive a glimmer of the future hidden in the depths of the past.

In closing, I can only offer my own hopes... in the best way I can. I had written the following several months ago for reasons that matter little now, except one. It is all I can do to help stave off the night...

'The path we walk is lined with the voices of the distant past, our own past, the present, and a future which conceals itself until it merges with the present. Those voices are the words of time. They are the rocks we stop and pick up and examine along the way, a seashell that might be more enduring than another, a glint of starlight dancing upon calm waters, or the gentle calling of the wind from a distant, verdant shore. As we walk, we can choose to leave our own words for time to hear, for the posterity of those that might decide to pick you up one day and see how extraordinary you were to generations hence. Our legacy is not the visceral monuments of our arrogance and perceived greatness, but in what we carry with us... what is unique in all of us.'

The world is changing... and that is well.

C.

Excerpts From A (now) Uncluttered Mind...

Well, Mom has come through her surgery ok, and appears to be doing quite well, though I think she over did it today.  Still, she should be fine unless somehting unforseen comes up...

It has been a fairly long week, though not as tough as some, but mostly dealing with helping my Mom out while she has been out for surgery.  That was mostly from worry, because I am happy to help family out when they need me... story of my life, to be fair.  Regardless, one gets random thoughts about all the strangeness in this life and it starts to clutter up the noggin some. So, I figured, in lieu of being particularly poignant and/or obtuse (which, regrettably, can happen simultaneously... what's the point of being poignant when no one gets the point... *sigh*), I thought I would clean out some of the mental debris that has been accumulating during this week.  Also, I have a couple of writing projects I have been alternately stalling and starting on (these things happen), and the mere exercise of doing this helps now and then... 

So, some random thoughts but not necessarily random in purpose...

So, am I going to see some of that 170 million spent on the 'national celebration'?  If not, why wasn't I invited? (and it's not a question of whether I would go or not, it's the principle of the thing :)

Though it's rather cold, ice cream sounds good at the moment.

Since the new president is freezing White House staffer's salaries of over 100,000, does that mean he is taking the job pro bono(since his salary is around a quarter of a million a year)? And what if you were making 98,000... do you get the shaft, or would you be one of those real troopers and take the hit for the good of the nation?

I think Congress should follow the White House's lead... most of them don't need the money either.  If they all did it, in a couple of years we could just pay off the inauguration :)

Why is it ok to take back all the wonderful things we say in love, but it is never possible to take back some of the horrible things we might say in anger... I might argue the sting from the words in love can be worse.  How arrogant we are in the passion of love. (note: guilty as charged, and if you think you are not... then you have never been in love)

We are all responsible for the mess we have created... I wonder if the stain on our souls can ever be cleansed.

I really hope the Steelers don't get a 6th Super Bowl ring... Steelers fans are bad enough... yes, I know, so are Cowboys fans, but I am not one of those Cowboys fans.

I need to be back on a beach...

(Am I the only person that thinks in parantheticals?)

Strange, I really know what it is like to be a pebble trying to stop an avalanche... worse, when you see it so clearly, and you know what is going to happen and have no way of stopping it... feeling powerless against the tide of history is a relatively normal occurrence for me.

The saying goes, 'you are only as old as you feel'... today, I don't know how old, or young I feel... but, I was always old, sooo...

Hmmm.... still a little cluttered, but less so than this morning.  It's a start...

C.

Thoughts On Genetic Memory

Wow, it has been awhile since I have written here.  Not unintentionally, I guess.  Simply working on other projects and having two conventions around the holidays will do that.  Well, then on to the actual matter at hand...

The idea of genetic, or racial and collective memory is not new.  I suppose the term genetic memory is more commonly used, as racial memory is decidedly un p.c, and collective memory seems more metaphysical.  For my part, I probably use the term collective memory and genetic memory more often.  While I have understood the concept of collective memory for many years, I really did not think about it as much until I read Arthur C. Clarke's groundbreaking book Childhood's End.  Without revealing too much regarding the book (and though from 1952 I highly recommend reading it), aliens come to the planet and demand the end of hostilities and potential nuclear war.  I know, sounds like a recent and not so recent movie, but Childhood's End is much more of a philosophical read, as Clarke delves into not only our past fears, but our future ones as well.  Clarke uses the term racial memory in the book, but I find the term genetic memory more palpable these days.  Further, my understanding of genetic memory hearkens to Clarke's ideas in this regard.  Put simply, Childhood's End is a tale of innocence lost (hence the title) and how we must eventually come to terms with our collective and individual genetic memories.

What, then is genetic memory?  Is it simply instinct, our natural reaction to images, sounds, words, feelings? Or is it something higher, a collective memory that reaches from a future already written though without a clear understanding.  In science fiction or science philosophy, I can easily propose such questions; however, the science of the 21st century might find the idea of a future memory within our genetic structure laughable.  Therefore, I am delving truly into the realm of philosophy based on some good reading and probably gut instinct (or gut insanity depending on who you ask and how you feel in the matter).  Regardless, I can only offer my view, which has been shaped through my own ruminations, writings, and reading on the subject.  To me, I see this memory in action in many ways, especially in the instinct of our fears, our acquiescence in the strangest of situations, and our ever popular mob mentality.  I understand it in my darkest moments, in the abyss of thought that can drag you into places you never wanted.  And yet, I feel it in the reflection of the light of the universe in our eyes, the gentle hope of a new day, the promise of a home in the cradle of stars.  We are the worst and the best in ourselves, and much of it comes from our instinct to hate and our instinct to love, what is written in our genetic code, our memory of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

While this memory can be on a collective level, it can be, at least to my mind, exceedingly personal.  I have noted this recently in some of my writings, wondering if a few of the things I had written were less about present inspiration but more drawing from a memory of the future.  It could be I simply have the mirror of hindsight, though a few poems and commentaries seemed remarkably prescient and appropriate.  Of course, considering the way I write, it is rather easy to project one piece upon multiple situations.  The cynic would merely opine that it is all mere coincidence, and some part of me would be inclined to agree.  The realist in me notes my penchant for overthinking at times.  The optimist, the dreamer... the romantic, the man who has seen so much wonder in this amazing universe, been given so much for so little in return, understands the truth, even if it is only a small truth.  The higher truths tend to escape us anyways, even when we are confident in our understanding, as I thought so many times, especially in the vanity of youth.  On the other hand, I could be drawing upon that memory even now, yielding only to the truth that exists in all of us.  

One thing I do know, after reading Childhood's End, I never looked at the stars quite the same way.  We are the universe made manifest, after all... and knowing that has helped me understand, for good or ill, past memories of future's days.

C.