Weblog 179
July 12, 2009~ 12:00am
A strange week. A week of marked isolation.
With the world's crushing wars and hatreds, with its crumbling infrastructures and economies- the populace goes insane over the death of a celebrity and I shake my head and feel so utterly alien on his planet. Weeks like this seem to seal me off completely.
I shrink into myself, my home, and my thoughts. I read a novel. (No, I escaped into a novel for most evenings this past week, and finished the book.) Occasionally I peer out at a world more tottering and volatile than I ever remember, but as the cracks appear, the frantic lunacies of people trying to ignore that fact in ways more and more incomprehensible, leaves me lonely.
I did find this WONDERFUL face....this woman from Xin Jiang, in China's far west.
Look at those eyes. Have you ever seen such ethereal, otherworldly amber in your life? There is such dignity found in the most restless parts of the exploding globe, and I hold that gaze, and I feel utmost respect. (I also feel shame for the way we in the west simply squander the privileges we have and waste ourselves on junk. Pure junk.)
There is much to be learned from the reverence of the Far and Middle East. In the midst of chaos, in the sand and infinite dryness, in what most of us would consider desolation, they erect something as unbelievably perfect as this blue gate
in the middle of the desert, a bit of the sacred. A glimpse of man's longing for beauty and grace.
One good thing I did this week (besides read a book) is watch Clint Eastwood's "Gran Torino".
I related to Eastwood's character Walt Kowalski, in his sour disillusionment. ( No one can beat Clint at looking completely pissed off and seething.) In 'Gran Torino', he plays an older man whose world has changed completely. His wife has just died, and everything he felt he knew is passing into memory. The silver star he'd earned in the Korean war is just another reminder of how wrong things are. He'd never felt like a hero for killing young and frightened men, it was something you did to protect your buddies, but there was no honor in it-- an ugly chapter of his life, in which he'd lost far too many friends.
When a Hmong Indochinese family next door begins to intrude on his battened down way of life, he bristles......curses....and puts up with it as best he can, but there is no love lost. Despite his attempts to ignore them, Clint steps in when the young sister and brother are harrassed by an ugly Asian gang of neighborhood thugs.
Gradually, Walt becomes an unlikely mentor to young Thao, a misfit Hmong teen who is fatherless-- and it's Walt's redemption.
The ending of the movie- which should have been sad, is not. Walt reclaims the thing he'd lost, the most important of all for those with conscience, he'd gotten forgiveness from himself, and in my book, that made him a happy man, no matter the cost.
So if you run into a week like the one I just had, rent this film. It shows what is good in us, no matter the nonsense around us. There is real purpose out there-- the trick is finding it, then holding on as tightly as you can.
We are not products of the world unless we succumb to the rattle and roll-- inside is a pillar. Strap yourself to it. Know where you stand.
July 13, 2009~ 6:30pm
It seems I am continuing to be mesmerizmed with the Middle East. Having recently finished two books in a row about the 'cradle of civilization' - "Three Cups Of Tea" and "A Thousand Splendid Suns"- (both excellent)- both concerning modern Iraq and Afhanistan, I'm now going back in time.
Back to the crusades ..... back to where the fighting started that led up to the ongoing turmoil in that part of the globe....Religion.
Religion ... and now oil. Greed and murder...hatred, and seemingly irreconcilable differences. It's about how men worship, the gods they pray to... who holds the soil, and what sort of governance should do it.
The book I'm about to begin tonight is called-- "The Religion", the first in a trilogy concerning the crusades. (More of a Hollywood novel than history- more Cecil B. DeMille than documentary certainly) but I find it so odd that I'm returning again and again to that same ground, that same contested earth in which so many have lost their lives while locked in battle after battle, maybe right up to the Armageddon we all fear.)
And it all started BIG TIME, right there, knights and muslims going at eachother with broadswords and scimitars.
What I find most astonishing is how many times things have changed hands....buildings....huge edifices, so deeply meaningful to both sides became customized and added to by whomever happened to have the upper hand at the time. One such marvel- and a perfect example, is the Hagia Sofia in Turkey. It started out as an Eastern Orthodox basilica in the Sixth Century- its first stones were laid three hundred years before that, then it was taken by invaders in the 15th and fitted up with minarets and Islamic symbols and inscriptions....and what a beauty it is! (It's a museum now, but there are still demands to return it to its original role.)
"In the aspe, where the altar used to stand is the mihrab, pointing towards Mecca".
There's something thrilling to me about this combination of Christian and Islamic symbolism, something that wouldn't exist if entirely one or the other. If nothing else-- if both sides could become tolerant, why couldn't this be a sacred place cherished and respected by both? As I see it, the melding of anything is somehow more natural, and the melding itself, a 'peace' between many parts. Toleration and respect. Room for all. What is wrong with that?
I've never understood this 'desire to conquer' carried like bad seeds in all of history, and whenever a thing perplexes and troubles me, I study it. I study it until I can see both sides and can find beauty and dignity in each. If one person can attempt do that, why can't all hearts seek such a thing? Isn't it better than dying for an idea?
Alright. Climbing off the soapbox -- but do stop in here to look at the wondrous views of Hagia Sofia. She'll take your breath away.
Dominus vobiscum....
Inshallah....
Peace on earth.
***
(Return To Weekly Archives)
A strange week. A week of marked isolation.
With the world's crushing wars and hatreds, with its crumbling infrastructures and economies- the populace goes insane over the death of a celebrity and I shake my head and feel so utterly alien on his planet. Weeks like this seem to seal me off completely.
I shrink into myself, my home, and my thoughts. I read a novel. (No, I escaped into a novel for most evenings this past week, and finished the book.) Occasionally I peer out at a world more tottering and volatile than I ever remember, but as the cracks appear, the frantic lunacies of people trying to ignore that fact in ways more and more incomprehensible, leaves me lonely.
I did find this WONDERFUL face....this woman from Xin Jiang, in China's far west.
Look at those eyes. Have you ever seen such ethereal, otherworldly amber in your life? There is such dignity found in the most restless parts of the exploding globe, and I hold that gaze, and I feel utmost respect. (I also feel shame for the way we in the west simply squander the privileges we have and waste ourselves on junk. Pure junk.)
There is much to be learned from the reverence of the Far and Middle East. In the midst of chaos, in the sand and infinite dryness, in what most of us would consider desolation, they erect something as unbelievably perfect as this blue gate
in the middle of the desert, a bit of the sacred. A glimpse of man's longing for beauty and grace.
One good thing I did this week (besides read a book) is watch Clint Eastwood's "Gran Torino".
I related to Eastwood's character Walt Kowalski, in his sour disillusionment. ( No one can beat Clint at looking completely pissed off and seething.) In 'Gran Torino', he plays an older man whose world has changed completely. His wife has just died, and everything he felt he knew is passing into memory. The silver star he'd earned in the Korean war is just another reminder of how wrong things are. He'd never felt like a hero for killing young and frightened men, it was something you did to protect your buddies, but there was no honor in it-- an ugly chapter of his life, in which he'd lost far too many friends.
When a Hmong Indochinese family next door begins to intrude on his battened down way of life, he bristles......curses....and puts up with it as best he can, but there is no love lost. Despite his attempts to ignore them, Clint steps in when the young sister and brother are harrassed by an ugly Asian gang of neighborhood thugs.
Gradually, Walt becomes an unlikely mentor to young Thao, a misfit Hmong teen who is fatherless-- and it's Walt's redemption.
The ending of the movie- which should have been sad, is not. Walt reclaims the thing he'd lost, the most important of all for those with conscience, he'd gotten forgiveness from himself, and in my book, that made him a happy man, no matter the cost.
So if you run into a week like the one I just had, rent this film. It shows what is good in us, no matter the nonsense around us. There is real purpose out there-- the trick is finding it, then holding on as tightly as you can.
We are not products of the world unless we succumb to the rattle and roll-- inside is a pillar. Strap yourself to it. Know where you stand.
July 13, 2009~ 6:30pm
It seems I am continuing to be mesmerizmed with the Middle East. Having recently finished two books in a row about the 'cradle of civilization' - "Three Cups Of Tea" and "A Thousand Splendid Suns"- (both excellent)- both concerning modern Iraq and Afhanistan, I'm now going back in time.
Back to the crusades ..... back to where the fighting started that led up to the ongoing turmoil in that part of the globe....Religion.
Religion ... and now oil. Greed and murder...hatred, and seemingly irreconcilable differences. It's about how men worship, the gods they pray to... who holds the soil, and what sort of governance should do it.
The book I'm about to begin tonight is called-- "The Religion", the first in a trilogy concerning the crusades. (More of a Hollywood novel than history- more Cecil B. DeMille than documentary certainly) but I find it so odd that I'm returning again and again to that same ground, that same contested earth in which so many have lost their lives while locked in battle after battle, maybe right up to the Armageddon we all fear.)
And it all started BIG TIME, right there, knights and muslims going at eachother with broadswords and scimitars.
What I find most astonishing is how many times things have changed hands....buildings....huge edifices, so deeply meaningful to both sides became customized and added to by whomever happened to have the upper hand at the time. One such marvel- and a perfect example, is the Hagia Sofia in Turkey. It started out as an Eastern Orthodox basilica in the Sixth Century- its first stones were laid three hundred years before that, then it was taken by invaders in the 15th and fitted up with minarets and Islamic symbols and inscriptions....and what a beauty it is! (It's a museum now, but there are still demands to return it to its original role.)
In 1453, Constantinople was conquered by the Ottoman Turks and Sultan Mehmed II ordered the building to be converted into a mosque The bells, altar, iconostasis, and sacrificial vessels were removed, and many of the mosaics were eventually plastered over. The Islamic features — such as the mihrab, the minbar, and the four minarets outside — were added over the course of its history under the Ottomans. It remained as a mosque until 1935, when it was converted into a museum by the Republic of Turkey.
"In the aspe, where the altar used to stand is the mihrab, pointing towards Mecca".
There's something thrilling to me about this combination of Christian and Islamic symbolism, something that wouldn't exist if entirely one or the other. If nothing else-- if both sides could become tolerant, why couldn't this be a sacred place cherished and respected by both? As I see it, the melding of anything is somehow more natural, and the melding itself, a 'peace' between many parts. Toleration and respect. Room for all. What is wrong with that?
I've never understood this 'desire to conquer' carried like bad seeds in all of history, and whenever a thing perplexes and troubles me, I study it. I study it until I can see both sides and can find beauty and dignity in each. If one person can attempt do that, why can't all hearts seek such a thing? Isn't it better than dying for an idea?
Alright. Climbing off the soapbox -- but do stop in here to look at the wondrous views of Hagia Sofia. She'll take your breath away.
Dominus vobiscum....
Inshallah....
Peace on earth.
(Return To Weekly Archives)
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