Rollie Stanich

 Dear Mary, 

   Your comment resonated with my own personal experiences. I was brought up in rural Kentucky, and also was torn, like you, between the meanings I sensed midst the dogma "crammed down my throat" as hell-fire and brimstone revivalists scared the shit out of me as a little boy when they shouted and hit the podium with their fists. This preaching style may have helped wake up some adults, but it left scars in me that caused a long migration from "amber" religion. Since that migration away, however, I have seen the wisdom of Ken's phrase "transcend but include". There are sacred truths midst the rigid rural roles and rigid theology. My conflict was so similar to what you expressed, that I have even taken to trying to resolve the conflict during the writing of a book - The Marketing of Virtue (still in progress, and may be for a few years at the slow rate I write!). Below is a section that I wrote long before I ever heard of "the integral approach", but I was clearly anticipating the zietghiest, the collective mind evolving to a state of integration (I believe that is the meaning of "The Tree of Life"). Here is the excerpt. In bold print is a section which I felt especially resonated with the thoughts and sentiment you expressed in your comment: 

The Evolution of Intelligence:

    When I was a boy on the farm, I would try to use my imagination and intelligence to dream up inventions which might eliminate, or cut down on, the tedious and strenuous physical labor in which I was engaging at the time. One of those farm chores was hoeing weeds from the tobacco patch. In a space of about one and a half feet between each young tobacco plant, I would use the blade of the hoe to break the soil, uproot weeds, and pull the dirt overtop tiny weed seedlings. 

    This ritual was performed thousands of times, row after long row. The more tired, hot and bored I became, the more I was motivated to think about something which might ease the burden and free me from what seemed to be a trap. My daydreaming was an example of the truth of the saying "Necessity is the mother of invention". My aching muscles and the sweat dripping from my forehead felt close enough to a "necessity" to inspire hypothetical machines and methods to by-pass labor. I was often busier trying to think of new inventions and methods to eliminate hoeing than I was at doing my job in a timely and effective manner. 

    While I was in the creative mode, I also wrote several poems  - my variation of whistling or singing while I worked. My poetry art"works" were a morale-maintenance tool which I used on myself. I became somewhat enamored with innovative thinking. I felt like I possessed a kind of mental magic. 

    What was happening was a shift from level 1 intelligence to level 2 intelligence. There would be costs and benefits of making this transition, but before analyzing these costs and benefits, I would like to further discuss the characteristics which I attribute to each level. The postulated, and partially experienced, third level of intelligence, which is the basis for the master tool, will be discussed later.

    Level 1 intelligence gravitates toward that which is familiar, and resists change. Its main priority is to accurately replicate those projections or products of mind which are believed to have been proven effective. In reference to the tool analogy, level 1 seeks to maintain and use the tools already placed in the toolbox, and makes sure no modifications, distortions, or replacements of those tools occurs. It is concerned with practical, everyday tasks and problem solving, as opposed to creativity. Level 1 calls for a more-or-less blindly obedient attitude toward traditional procedures, views, and tools. 

      The main priority of level 2 intelligence is to produce new thoughts and innovations which expand the repertoire of adaptive responses. It makes sure new tools are placed in the toolbox, and that the old tools are upgraded or replaced. Level 2 intelligence is concerned with exploration, expansion, and creativity, as opposed to practical approaches. 

    Culturally, level 2 was represented by the modernization trend  in the United States during the late 1950s and early '60s. I recall advertisements of "Barby doll" housewives wearing strands of pearl and high-heeled shoes in kitchens full of modern labor-saving appliances. I wasn't alone in my dream of an easier, more gracious, life. ....

   From the Mountaintop

    In the vein of "ontogeny recapitulating phylogeny" (in which characteristics of an individual's stages of physical development are said to reflect evolutionary stages of that individual's species), my individual development of intellect seems to have paralleled the evolution of intellect in the history of humankind. Like the tools and techniques which help form civilizations, whole civilizations are projections of the human mind. The mind is one thing which we all have to work with. 

    My level 2 mental projections, not unlike the projections of large numbers of  minds working together, may have reflected the beginnings of our technologically-oriented civilization. While there have been periods of innovative level 2 thinking in civilization prior to the industrial age, such thinking seems to have predominated since the onset of the industrial age. 

   My level 1 reality may have reflected earlier,  pre-industrial, stages of our civilization. Prior to the industrial age, humankind was probably less confident about its mental proficiency, and less willing to try a lot of new approaches.    

   For me, there was a conflict between my level 2 strivings for progress and the fear that such thoughts were a waste of time, or even a sign of irresponsibility. This notion was reinforced by the practical farm culture and , at times, by my father, grandfather, and uncle who were my bosses during farm tasks. 

    Civilization also has periods of conflict between continuing with level 2 innovations and a desire to turn "back to the basics" of a previous level. In the recent trend of political conservatism (1980-2006), less government, like we had in the past, has been seen as the answer to the problem of government "fat" which resulted from excessive, or imperfect, level 2 innovations.

    A cultural parallel is the press to turn back to old morality. When I was recently visiting a country church "back home", I was intrigued by an old clock on the front wall. The clock's glass, through which I viewed the predictable swinging of a pendulum, displayed the name "Regulator". I marveled at this metaphor of moral regulation. 

   The church itself had been a tool for moral regulation. In a way, the church was the "Regulator". Part of me longed for those simpler times when I could just follow instructions. Many people advocate a return to this type of church and this way of life.

    In that subculture's past, a kind of mental rigidity, including rigid, unexplained, laws as the basis for moral behavior, may have  been an adaptive response to the survival-like situations of potential (or actual) crop failure, disease, poverty, and other harsh aspects of reality. A world view of a tenuous kind of order in which the chaos of hell is always "knocking on the door" called for a tight rein on behavior/morality. 

   The level 2 creative endeavors to find new ways to do things, including new approaches to morality, seemed far too risky. There was already enough chaos perceived in reality itself. The chaos of creative ideas added to the risk of  becoming hopelessly lost or overwhelmed. 

    My level 2 meanderings made me somewhat of a misfit in that subculture. Fortunately, my understanding of the situation has since helped me accept what happened and who I am.

    As I gazed at the neat old clock, as valuable and beautiful as it was, I clearly sensed that it was a thing of the past, in need of being somehow transformed into a device which could transcend society's (and my own) pendulum swings between level 1 control and level 2 excesses. The new device would read something like "Integrator". It would point the way to a deeper morality which is based on the connective thinking of spirituality, and would also help us use our level 2 innovations wisely. 

   The Christian concept of the Second Coming may be alluding more to this 3rd level of intelligence and culture, which is in the true spirit of Christ, than it is to the individual physical person of Christ returning to the world. But just what is the innovation, or "tool", of the 3rd level of thinking?

    When I was standing out in the tobacco field under the hot sun, under the influence of an aching in my back, and with a hoe in hand, I missed (at least on a conscious level) the greatest hardship-resolving innovation of all - the master tool. This is the tool which creates all other tools and cultures. It is the mind as a whole. 

    For the mind to be fully used as a tool, it must be able to observe itself with a "third eye" at the same time it is being the tool. Our first two eyes see the reality in front of us. The third eye sees us as a dynamic part of that reality. During certain states of prayer/meditation, I have actually seen a large single eye before me. I have been told that many other meditants throughout history have reported the same phenomena. 

    Whether this is a divine communication of God's presence, the third eye, both, or merely a reflection of the physical eye on the inside of the eyelid (my sightings have occurred when my eyes were closed), I don't know. Still, I'm intrigued by this observed symbol, which, for me, has become a powerful sign of an integrative capacity of mind.  ....

   Let's return to the tobacco field where I once dreamed of “new ways”. Although the story has been rewritten to introduce the perspective of the third level of intelligence, which I had not developed at the time, the outcome of the story is, nonetheless, an authentic expression of what my story could have been, and would have been, had I mastered the master tool.   

    I’m on a ridge top in northern Kentucky on a hot summer day. The cloddy tan clay soil and the velvet green clumps of  tobacco plants reaching up to the middle of  the calves of my legs stretched out into long curved rows. Locust trees, blackberry briars, junipers (which we called “cedar trees”), black walnut trees, redbud trees, sassafras, sumac, maples, oaks, and hickories bordered the open field with a wide variety of shapes, textures, and shades of green. All of this scene stood against a background of hazy blue sky interspersed with occasional clouds which lazily drifted by.

    The rows of weed-infested tobacco seem to go on forever. It’s 2:15 p.m. and a big part of the day is ahead of me. It is an unusually hot day. My back is aching from the motion of too many hoe chops to count. My level 2 mentality kicks in. “What about those new wonder chemicals that kill weeds?”. Or, “Why can't we calculate the projected weed damage in such a way as to only hoe when it is likely to significantly reduce yield? Up to a point, we could just plant more tobacco in order to offset minimal losses due to minor weed infestations. By growing grasses to crowd out the weeds during off years in crop rotation, we could keep the weeds from multiplying.”

   Suddenly, an even more creative thought interrupts the flow. “What if I could learn to use this tool-creating mind/mechanism as a tool itself, in order to rise above the whole problem? Could I mentally transform a situation that leaves me feeling hot, aching, bored, and trapped, into a pleasant, stimulating, and peaceful reality? Could I see a reality beyond the surface facts, or ‘clothes’, of this reality, so as to see the ‘naked truth’? Why would I be dependent on external changes (such as cooler temperatures, easier hoe chops) if I could really see the naked truth of my labor? I would really know my place in this life, in this moment, in this field. The details would be seen in an entirely new way which was never dreamed of before.”

    Just thinking about this possible invention begins to change the way the hoe feels in my hand and in relation to my body. The heat on my upper back and the aching in my lower back is still there, but, as though I were on laughing gas, I don't experience the old pain. I am about something else. My body is in harmony with the swinging hoe. As the hoe sinks into the soil, I experience a connection with the ancient earth. As I cut the weeds, I am cutting across time. 

    I look up and see the sky. Now it is a whole, embracing, sky. A bird gracefully soars overhead. Similar birds must have been there before, but I never noticed. Now I can sense the birds' flight. My mind is free - free enough to no longer have to rebel against my job. I am not trapped. I am a vessel which channels energy from an unseen river. The energy from the sun, which was once oppressing me, is now somehow working through me. I am vibrant, alive, yet I peacefully accept the limited scope of my weeding project.