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Crossing the Great Divide
I have been soul-searching lately about my role in IL. I frequently advocate the assessment and utilization of gifts (people's attributes or skills) for this online community, or, for that matter, any community (if it strives to be a healthy and optimal community). But what unique gift or perspective do I have to offer this community? How can I best serve? Not sure I have answered this question clearly yet, but I do have a promising lead.
While reading T.S. Eliot's poem The Hollow Men this morning, I noticed the poem's use of the term "shadow" repeatedly toward it's end (the end we all have heard at one point or another, "This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper". Eliot describes a "shadow" falling between: "... the idea and the reality", "...the motion and the act",...the conception and the creation", "... the emotion and the response",... the desire and the spasm", "...the potency and the existence", "... the essence and the descent".
Wow! how many discussions we have had here at IL about the shadow and the need to examine the potential distortions which our own emotionally repressed/suppressed issues might create as our minds project onto the IL topics at hand.
I would like to examine the "shadow" here, in this post. But I don't want to look at it as a "problem" (not as the cause/source of unwanted distortions or bias). Rather I would like to examine the shadow as a kind of interesting, even fascinating, phenomena. I would like to look at the shadow as a "great divide" of consciousness, rather than as an obstruction or wall.
In the middle of Eliot's poem, he describes two "kingdoms" of death. One is "death's dream kingdom". The other is suggested as being right then and there in the British culture of his time. Eliot seems to be making a comment about an existential sort of "death" that is among the living, creating night of the living dead zombies which he calls "the hollow men". He even suggests that real death may be more alive than this existential death. The eyes in "death's dream kingdom" are "... sunlight on a broken column. There is a tree swinging and voices are in the wind's singing."
To me, T.S. Eliot's descriptions of existence in his other kingdom (which, presumably, one must die to enter fully- must cross that great divide we call death) has very dynamic ("alive") features which I generally associate with right-brain poetic thought, or with the kind of subjective "aliveness" one might find while located in Ken Wilber's upper left quadrant of major perspectives. There, in the upper left quad, is where I would imagine any awareness we might have of "death's dream kingdom" (I was raised calling it the "hereafter". Others refer to it as the "other side".).
Eliot suggested that actual death may be preferable to the kind of existential death he saw all around him, although the poem was honest about also suggesting a reluctance to go the other side, or even to see it very clearly. He implied a fear or dread of actually experiencing death. Nonetheless, the conflict between the two kinds of death was partially resolved by his hinting that meaning trumps mere "hollow" survival. The poem seems a variation of American patriot, Nathen Hale's proclimation of "Give me liberty or give me death". This poem says "Give me meaning or give me death".
I had a similar awareness of existential death about midway through my career as a psychology service provider in state-run institutions (Mental Health and Corrections). While working in a state psychiatric hospital, I noticed how the presumably "good" development of gaining "accreditation" also had an undesirable effect of everyone focusing on looking good "on paper", and seeming to forget about quality treatment. Below is my local version of The Hollow Men:
Driftwood
Expression has been washed from their faces.
Their upturned roots are smooth -
no longer grasping life.
They congregate aimlessly in a stagnant pool,
having drifted and rolled until real movement is gone.
There is no bark, no bite.
Their gnarled poetry is a breathless sigh.
After years of being riddled,
the solutions are hollow.
Souls became holes.
Everyone is polished and knows his place.
It is a conference of driftwood
listening to the answers
given them.
© 1995 Darrell Moneyhon
The percieved existential death of my workplace culture bothered me so much that I decided to move from the state's (Ohio's) mental health department to the Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and Corrections. A great synchronicity occurred around this choice. During my wait for transfer into the new department (and to me, it brought about the fear of the unknown) I was called to jury duty. Jury duty lasted 2 weeks. Right in the middle of those two weeks, on a weekend, I took my oldest son to a Boy Scout Jubilee, a big group camp out. On the way to the camp site (nearly there), we came across the end result of a car accident. I did mouth to mouth breathing on a lady in the car (while others did chest compressions), but she died, despite my efforts. Actually, she was already dead from a broken neck. But all I knew is that my efforts were in vain. During the Jamborie I was in a state of grief (over failure to save her) and trauma. I wrote the following poem to emotionally process the event:
CPR
At a campsite at the Jamboree,
a cub scout’s hope-filled face
pressed near some dying embers.
His breath expressed a flame only he could see.
Smoke clarified the purpose of burning eyes.
Coughing - the lucky consequence of resuscitation.
Life, compressed in a single struggle,
suddenly exploded.
His face glowed bright with realization -
heart beating with excitement,
warmed, reassured.
Earlier that evening, on the way to the outing,
the accident on 35 left embers dying.
I pressed near her face,
expressed myself in breathy anticipation of flame.
Her lips turned cool, eyes rolled
toward something I couldn’t see, didn’t want to accept.
My struggle had been compressed
in a single moment of life or death.
Darkness gradually imploded the heroic dream.
Her face turned blue, waxy, distant,
as I disengaged my burning lips.
I choked on death-bile.
My vision reluctantly cleared to accept reality.
Later in the sleepless night, my heart,
beat from the lack of her heart’s beating,
opened meekly to the dark home of stars, distant,
but drawing closer.
They spark some faint hope.
I am warmed - reassured.
© 1995 Darrell Moneyhon
I had come as close to T.S. Eliot's "death's dream kingdom" as anyone would ever want to be, at least anyone still valuing life. And the "looking at the other side" seemed a perfect transition symbol for the "other side" of my career. The jury duty also seemed to fit the transition theme (as it was the result of a random selection, and interupted my job), and resonated with the decision, or "judgement", I was making in my own life. I was crossing what was, to me, a "great divide" - a zone of not knowing what will be on the other side.
All that story and poem interpretation is meant to set the stage for a discussion about another "great divide" - the one between the upper left quad and the upper right quad that seems to dominate our culturally-conditioned view of "reality". In the vein of Ken's "flatland", science has become, in some regards within our modern civilization, like the group therapy participant who is allowed to talk too much, and who ends up dominating the discussion time, and who disproportionately sets the theme for the group.
Ken Wilber, like a good group therapist, values the contributions of that "participant", but cautions that it is beginning to hurt the whole group. Interesting to think of all humankind as a therapy group, but, in a way, it is. Civilization is trying to find itself and to heal itself and to grow. Ken tries to let the other three group members (the other quads) especially the left two, have more of a voice in this one big therapy group.
But even if someone, such as Wilber, spreads attention out more evenly in the great discussion, there still exists a significant gap, or divide, in awareness between objective (left-brain leaning) and subjective (right-brain leaning) "kingdoms". Ken and others might get the subjective camp to speak more, but cannot guarantee they will be heard by those leaning toward an objective view of reality. The discussion could be even (equitiable), and yet the understanding remain quite uneven - at least for a good (or bad!) while, until the message finally starts to sink in, like drips of water that finally change the shape of stone, via errosion.
And I can't help but think that much of the divide is related to the gap between the subconscious mind (of which the right brain probably has the lion's share) and the conscious mind (of which the left brain probably has the lion's share). The chasm or gap or divide is largely the result of this shadow phenomena in which the subconscious content is barely, if at all, revealed to the everyday, conscious mind.
The next question is: "Can the shadow be illuminted (not eliminated, but made less unseen), the divide (partially) crossed?". My answer - my best bet - is "yes". In addition to Ken Wilber's useful map which identifies who is talking, I believe there can be practices which help close the gap between previously "subconscious" processes and "conscious" processes.
Poetry may be one of the practices which partially crosses (and teaches us how to cross) the divide. Poetry invites the mind to project onto the metaphors and images, not unlike projecting onto the ambiguous visual qualities of an inkblot. What is the metaphor for? It is for you. For you to reclaim whatever the word, image, or metaphor "re-minded" you of. For you to reclaim your projection onto it. For you to dream while you are awake, and then to become more lucid in the dream, as you begin to see what your mind was up to when it connected to the poem. For you to begin the very gradual process of unraveling your own shadows.
Sometimes it takes a sneaky little poem which bypasses your dread, fear, anger, shame, or other unpleasant emotions, because you may need distance between you and your shadows projected onto the image or phrase. Poems, like other forms of "art therapy" may take a long while before you can see yourself in the shadowy, but intriguing, image/word/phrase/metaphor. But if you stay awake long enough (process enough poems), then the shadows will become more and more illuminated (and cease to be mere shadows?). This, of course, requires you to really read, and "take in", the poem, or many poems over a period of time.
So, how could this belief in the power of poetry be applied to a community such as IL? I will recycle an earlier project I failed to launch elswhere. I'll resurrect that project's proposal, in order to show one possible way the intrapsychic divide-crossing skill might be developed in a group of people - to a "community". Below was an attempt I made about a year ago to start up a poet-philosopher support group. I used Wallace Steven's poem "Anecdote of the Jar" as an example of a contemplative mind facing the shadowy wilderness.
Whether Stevens actually intended the jar in the poem to represent contemplation or simply "mind" (which we often associate with more analytic thought), I am not sure. I suppose the mind-jar could be abstract in a left brain sort of way (kind of organizing or "taming" the wild, concrete, experiences), or it could have the right-brainish abstract fluidity of contemplative thought which tends to transcend the neat little thought boxes of left brain thought.
Is the wilderness in Steven's poem a metaphor of "identified" things (experential fields broken up into the neat little thought boxes?), or is the wilderness a metaphor of the many rich and varied experiences, such as the vivid concreteness of the golden years of childhood? Was the jar in the upper right, or upper left quad? I see it as being in the upper left, as contemplative, but then, that may be my own projection as a dreamer longing to be heard.
Whichever way Stevens was thinking of the jar (as his own mind projected onto the actual image of the jar), Anecdote of the Jar seems acutely aware of a divide in consciousness, just as T.S. Eliot's The Hollow Men was aware of a divide. I cannot help but believe that both poems are examining this divide, this "shadowy" space. Stevens' transparent and reflective jar seemed to illuminate the shadowy unknowns, whereas Eliot was content to merely examine the shadows themselves. Both poets, however, seem to be addressing the great divide.
Here is my proposal for a community intervention to help participants address and to begin to cross this divide:
DECEMBER 1, 2008
Jar: Welcoming the Right Brain to Thought
Welcome to Jar. This blog is devoted to "welcoming the right brain to thought", to supporting writers of poetry and prose, and to encouraging philosophical ideas, especially those pertaining to spirituality, or "whole-mind activity".
Jar is named after Wallace Stevens' poem Anecdote of the Jar. The jar in Stevens' poem seems to represent an open and receptive mind. In general, Wallace Stevens was noted for combining intellectual thought with poetic imagery and poetic logic. Here is a copy of Wallace Steven's poem, so you can compare it to the translated version (below) which is a kind of vision statement for this blog, and for the proposed support group by the same name - Jar.
Anecdote of the Jar
Wallace Stevens
I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.
The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.
It took dominion every where.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.
Anecdote of the Jar Group
We placed a group devoted to contemplative thought in Ohio.
And it was unified toward developing higher consciousness
Which transcends the part-mind activity of formal thought,
But includes such intellectual processing.
The group mind lifted up the regular activity of thought
By integrating those thoughts into a larger whole.
The consciousness was based upon contemplation/meditation, upon the ground of being,
And was transcendent and open.
The group mind was expansive, exploring all sorts of possibilities.
It was nonjudgmental and non-biased.
The group didn't limit itself to particular beliefs -
Not at all typical of mid-western culture and thought.
The plan is to have quarterly meetings at Espresso Yourself Music Cafe in Powell, Ohio. The blog will be a supplement to the face-to-face meetings, and can accommodate those who may be too far away to attend the quarterly meetings. Special group-sponsored poetry readings and "searchshops" (philosophical discussions/explorations) may occur in time, as the Jar group grows.
This group has never been formed in my physical community of Dublin Ohio (I am not great at follow-through, and have met other priorities in the meantime) , but it still remains a possibility as a subgroup within this online community of IL. I have no idea whether there are sufficient numbers of IL members who would be interested in using poetry and intellectual thought side by side in the fashion required for this integral intervention, but it is something I still feel "called" to offer. Let me know if you are interested in starting to format such a support group within IL. Is it permissible? Are there any tech features which might make it more feasible?
At your service, Darrell
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I would love to participate in this sub-culture!
Posted May 20th, 2009 by Matthew FlowersDarrell,
I think this is a great idea and would love to read and contribute. I am in California so I would only be able to interact electronically, but I would still enjoy it very much.
As far as your shadow concept goes...
I haven't written any poetry about it (yet), but I understand and appreciate the connections you were making regarding the shadow as a Great Divide. I have entered a contemplative space regarding this very subject recently. I envision the Shadow of Humanity as being a nondescript personification of the consequences that resulted from all of the evolutionary decisions life has made. A Dweller on the Threshold of sorts. All of the different potentialities that could have existed had some evolutionary judgment been made differently. It's not as if the choice was wrong or bad in some way, it's just that owing to the nature of Time and Eros there are some opportunity costs associated with every new emergence.
This also mirrors our own development. We cannot truly know "what could have been" had we made alternate choices in our life, but we do recognize that with every decision we lose some possible future. Our life casts a shadow that is exactly in the shape of us and the plentitude of lives that might have been live in that shadow. It is because of this that it is so easy to project regret and anger on our shadow. It's not what actually IS but the whole conglomeration of what ISN'T as a direct result of what IS.
We cannot describe the qualities of the shadow because it has no form irrespective of that which is obscuring the light.
--

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Beautiul
Posted May 20th, 2009 by camfreeThanks Darrell,
A great post. I would very much like to join yr group but can't promise any consistency at the moment, pretty tied up with things Down Under, but let me know if there's anything I can do to keep in touch from time to time... Cheers, Cam--
"Become passers-by" (Jesus of Nazareth)
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Crossing Over
Posted May 21st, 2009 by Linda Hollier
Beautifully written. A wonderful idea, Darrell. I would love to participate.
There is shadow under this red rock
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
T.S. Eliot – “The Waste Land”
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
T.S. Eliot – “Little Gidding” (the last of his Four Quartets)
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Wonderful
Posted May 21st, 2009 by BalderDarrell, this was a gorgeous, moving post. Thank you for it. And it's also an intereting idea. I'm not sure how it would work, but I'm open to just 'diving in' and seeing what happens.
All the best,
B.








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Posted May 20th, 2009 by admin