Wiki Blackout

Today Wikipedia is dark. An extraordinary decision by Wikipedia founder Jimmy Wales to protest two bills now before Congress.  ”The protest is aimed at the Stop Online Piracy Act in the House and the Protect  Intellectual Property Act under consideration in the Senate,” reported Fox News. Both bills would, in essence, censor the freedom of the Internet.

I believe in protest and applaud Wales’ decision to shut down one of the Internet’s most visited sites, but I can imagine college students, just back in class, having just received a research assignment, going to Wiki this morning and finding it dark. What a shock! Information is not necessarily at a fingertip distance. The shutdown is only for 24 hours so I don’t expect them to go scurrying to the library necessarily, but perhaps it will cause thought.

I’m reminded of something Yo Yo Ma said. A couple of weeks ago, we watched the Lincoln Center Honors and as one of the honorees, he sat in a box with the President and First Lady and watched as a film clip reviewed his life and work. And at one point, his voice, in voice-over, said, “Every day I make an effort to go toward what I don’t understand.”

I hastily scribbled down the line so I wouldn’t forget the exact words and I put the scrap of paper next to my writing area.

Every day I make an effort to go toward what I don’t understand.

Years ago, I wouldn’t let students use Wiki as a source, but over time the site has proved its reliability and is one I use–we all use-to find something quick. And sometimes not only quick but in depth. And sources for more information. It’s one of the places I go toward when I don’t understand.

Every day I make an effort to go toward what I don’t understand.

That’s what writing does. It aims for what the writer doesn’t understand. I’m grateful for that direction. I’ve studied everything from Kansas history to mythology on the Internet, looking for information, wanting to understand my subject. Writers research. We look.

But even if you’re not a writer, if your talent lies in reading, you are still going toward what you don’t understand. Just walking into each day, when you think about it, is going toward what’s not understood. We don’t know what’s going to happen, even if we think we do.

What I don’t understand fills volumes.

So I’ll miss Wiki today if I have to suddenly find out something but I applaud the protest and the time it’s given me to think about where I need to head today. Which piece of what I don’t understand will be the focal point of wondering?

When grandson Michael who is in the Navy came home for Christmas last year, he brought his dog. She adopted us as grandparents. Sometimes overly so. But the well-muscled Mittens against the white puffy comforter and the blood-red pillow, make for interesting contrasts.

And I found out something interesting in the bargain. The dogs we fear, i.e. pit bulls, are actually the breed American Terrier. Has a very different ring to it doesn’t it? There’s probably a lesson in there for all of us about stereotypes and misinformation.

Mittens the Pit Bull

I know about it because I’m on the board of Whispering Prairie Press and have had quite an education, seeing the behind the scenes of publishing. Putting out a literary journal takes a lot of work and a lot of people. So if you’ve ever submitted your work to a journal and been rejected and fumed because the people didn’t know what they were doing, trust me. Most literary journals work hard at knowing.

So here’s a chance to try putting your writing out there again. Kansas City Voices is open for submissions of poetry, prose, and visual art. Here’s our info.

Kansas City Voices is currently in an open submissions period. Please submit your poetry, prose and/or visual art for our Tenth Anniversary edition by March 15, 2012.

One of the things I’ve been wondering about is how to create more quiet time in my life when nothing needed doing, when I could simply be. And what that would look like anyway. This morning, I wrote in my journal, “Too many little undone pieces rule my life.” Rewrites on a book; email correspondence; repairs on the house; catch up with farm business and home business; and just recently discovering that my mother, dead these past ten years, has left a trail of “unclaimed property” in the states she lived in, all because I read a newspaper article on unclaimed property in Kansas and wondered, hmmmmm. Wonder if any of my family….. and yes, my mother had left behind a breadcrumb trail through the years.

But it’s January and much as we’d like to move into a new year fresh and clean, much is left over from the old year to clean up and complete. We all have tasks undone.

Espen Hammer wrote that before the advent of the pocket watch in the 16th Century, time was measured by the light slowing growing and in the sounds of birds. That’s still how I wake in the summertime. In winter, I’m more inclined to be the old bear slowing rolling over in her fur for another nap.

Hammer goes on to say that modern society is really unimaginable without clocktime and however we’d like to slow things down, not be ruled by a clock, we aren’t at the same time willing to give up the conveniences of modern life. Anyone want to return to living in the Middle Ages? No shower; no weather stripping or double sealed windows? Lots of cow dung?? I doubt it no matter how seductive returning to an earlier time may seem.

Our lives are ruled by time. Even at the Jesuit retreat center, Susan Gregory Thomas promptly arrived at 1:15 p.m. for her appointment with the spiritual director. But a line near the end was telling: “I did, indeed, have everything I needed–if only I would stay quiet long enough to remember.” Ah. Yes. To Be Quiet. To Remember.

On New Year’s Day, as we were setting up for our church service, we discovered that my husband Cliff, who never forgets anything, forgot the recorded music we use for meditation, offertory, and communion. A fast (and chaotic) dash home? he wondered. No. Wait. Make the service a silent service. And we did; and it was beautiful.

It was interesting to see how the unaccustomed silence unbalanced everything. Our community, like each of us individually, is used to a certain pattern to things, to a certain timing, if you will. Changing the pattern of music, which is a transitional marker in our services, set everyone to wobbling a bit. Cliff’s homily, on reflection as the new year begins, was perfect.

And then, a week later, we came to Epiphany. The theologian, Richard Rohr, wrote, “An epiphany is not an idea…but a truly new experience…” We can do anything with ideas, but an epiphany causes us to have an experience and an experience ”demands that the whole person be present and active.” In being present and active, we interact with other human beings rather than just thoughts.

So here’s my New Year’s wish for you: may your year be filled with balanced silences–not measured silences necessarily although ”time” for meditation is useful–rather silent moments to collect yourself, to remember you have all you need, to rattle the usual patterns of your life, and to absorb the epiphanies that come, calling you into action.

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The second shows where the lady’s dancing!

Drifts #3

However, most would agree, in this Kansas City city, that last years winter was quite enough thank you. So here’s photos from a year ago which are filled with snow. I actually felt sorry for St. Francis who sits in our garden, welcoming the animals, but he seemed quite content, protecting the bird in his hand from the cold snow.

So, okay. What ordinary, daily thing am I less than effective in doing? The first thing that comes to mind is remembering what day it is. In other words, I’m not so great at the skill of memory: ask my husband, my children, my friends, my students. If I don’t write it down, I probably won’t remember. And this isn’t an age thing, it’s a pretty much all my life thing.

So I got to thinking about that. Actually, I wonder about memory a lot, write about memory a lot, try to figure out why I remember some things and not other things a lot.

Now here’s the funny thing. My son just called and asked why he couldn’t get on a family website anymore and when he repeated the password, I realize I’d changed it and forgotten. Oh. Good thing I write things down. Especially passwords.

I’ve thought a lot about memory, and one of the things I’ve considered is how much I rely on what I call “messages.” In other words, much of what I rely on are the words that come into my head to tell me what to say. For example, most mornings when I wake, I ask myself, or my mind, “what day is it?” and wait for an answer. I find that odd. Not that it happens, but that I do it at all.  

In some circles that would be called schizophrenia and in others mysticism. I was somewhat startled, reading the book Muses, Madmen, and Prophets to learn that hearing my name called from somewhere outside me (i.e. not in my head) was a signal of schizophrenia. I’ve heard my name called most of my life. What? I ask. Sometimes I get an answer and sometimes the call simply turns me in another direction. I’ve considered those moments spirit’s promptings.

But then it’s also true that many mystics have been medicated out of their minds, so to speak. Seeing signs and wonders is not necessarily a valuable commodity in our world. At least, not since Freud. Carl Jung, on the other hand, was a little wiser and willing to be filled with wonder.

So there you are. A musing on musings. A wondering attached to what do I do least well. But then again, another question arises: perhaps our weaknesses are also our strengths if we recognize and accept them. Perhaps by allowing my hard drive memory, as it were, to remain empty of unnecessary verbage, I’ve allowed it to fill with space dedicated to spirit. I suppose the argument could be made that spirit resides in our hearts not our heads, our solar plexus not our amygdala, but perhaps spirit, in whichever way we follow it, resides wherever it wants to.

Right now it said, find an image of hands knitting. So I did. Hopefully that image means something to you.

Happy New Year! May your journey bring you peace of mind, peace of heart, and a healthy body. What more could you ask?

Janet

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While we all look for answers, or love, or somehow to know what we don’t know, to find spiritual guides or spiritual wisdom, finding is another matter. This essay by Leslee Hare has some very interesting points to ponder. I recommend a read.  Janet

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