Possibly the most incoherent thing I have said yet

It is rather late and I cannot sleep. I do not think that it is not due to the noise of friends and roommates two rooms over laughing and enjoying their time together, or the coffee I drank 3 hours ago, nor do I think it is the fact that my mind is processing the pages of books that I just read and attempted to comprehend. I think, rather, that this sleeplessness, this existential mental-wandering, is derived more from a spiritual state of unrest as I attempt to understand the world around me, the beliefs I grew up with (and have interpreted and reinterpreted), and the role of the self in a society (that I do not wish to embrace but yet cannot and will not abandon in sheer dismissal). There are a few things that have been rather important to my thoughts lately, whether they make this entry cogent or continuous with my previous statements does not really interest me.

Now, I have never been an art critic and I have probably dismissed more art as pointless than I have appreciated, but their are two artists (but I will only briefly discuss one) that evoke certain emotional dispositions within me that I feel are worth mentioning: Andrew Wyeth and Salvador Dali. I know very little of these two artists and their work, but I have had memorable experiences with seeing both of their exhibits at the High Museum here in Atlanta.

Recently, upon visiting the Dali exhibit, two things srtuck me as important. First, the term "nuclear mysticism" and its understanding by Dali as an expression of the existence of God through nuclear physics and Catholicism. Second, the "discontinuity of matter" in which Dali expresses that in drawing a table artists are more aptly portraying the world by drawing said table as composed of millions of tiny flies as opposed to drawing it as one continuous piece of matter.

Is it possible that God exists in these two statements? Is it absurd to ask what these two statements tell us about our modern sensibilities of rational enquirey, actual lived experience, and the secular/religious binary? Now, I don't really know what I am trying to achieve in this journal entry, nor do am I really aware of the possiblity of answers that could emerge. I am more interested in the profound understanding of God espoused by Dali in light of what I would view as possibly constested understandings of art, modernity, and artistic interpretations of society, culture, and God.

In the end, I am no art critic and I am no theologian. But I am interested in what we can learn from both.

Just cause you feel it, doesn't mean its there

"Great are the works of the Lord; they are pondered by all who delight in them."
-Psalm 111:2

Its a difficult situation to be in. The space between two spaces. I have started to wonder if this in-limbo-position is precisely where I am supposed to find myself. I think that between two traditions, and I don't mean traditions in the sense that is typically understood, lies the truth. To borrow from MacIntyre, a tradition is a present reality rooted in a past action that is teleological precisely because it has a future. I take this to be the state of mental dispositions that limit and simultaneously de-limit all aspects of action/knowledge rooted in an authorizing power. It's discursive.

It is here that I find myself. In between the in-between. In every sense of the word, I believe myself to be a skeptic. Possibly a mystic as well. God, whose words and actions I ponder in indirect ways, the abstraction of being, I think, presides in this space. This space between traditions acting and partaking in aspects of the two, but also existing precisely in the traditional interaction, this space between two modes of thought.

I call this intercultural spirituality. Please excuse the term. I am aware of the history of colonization that has authorized the present usage of 'culture' or 'civilization' in its exploits, but I use the term for the lack of a better one. Indeed, this 'intercultural spirituality' is a mystical point to be in, but nonetheless, I think this is precisely where I am to be. Moving between and to the limits of discursive knowledge, I find myself skeptical of the types of discourse that authorize our daily thoughts and actions, knowing full well that I am inherently limited. Perhaps in this limitation I am free. Remember, this is neither logical or illogical. It simply is - beyond the "shackles of reason."


Maybe truly being free is the ability to choose your own limitations. And in that sense, Perhaps I am free.

Rescuing myself from cynicism

This update cannot bear the burden of summarizing all of the recent developments in my life since I have last updated. I can confidently say that they have been many and they have been vast, but to that end, I will stop myself from carrying on with the subject.

What I really want to adress is partly vary personal and individual and the same time something I percieve to be very pertinent to the community of people that I would call the Christian community but maybe even on a less parochial scale that of religious communities in general. The article that has encouranged this endeavor is "Studying My Movement: Social Science Without Cynicism" in the Internation Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 40 (2008) by Abdelwahab El-Affindi.

This article, written by a Muslim, is about the ventures of social science into the realm of Middle Eastern studies and the metaphysical/historical/discourse-oriented ramifications of this endeavor with all of its problems and illuminations.

"Having lost their original faith, but not attained a new one, they advocate an agnostic pluralism: let us all drop our claim to the Turth and accept the multiplicity of "truths": let us camp here, over these multiple "planes of activity and praxis," which are "not one topography commanded by a geographical and historical vision."" Here I find myself recalling the work done by Talal Asad and William Connelly, calling into question the underlying themes of modernity and secularism, and hence advocating a paradigmatic pluralism that gives credence to multiple truths. Although, I think that religion was largely the victim of such claims, I am not sure that I disagree, essentially, with this claim. "We are all for pluralism and the self-critical attittude underlying it. I certainly took great careto present my study in such a self-critical mode," says the author of this article. I feel that within the Christian tradition, many have claimed to have a monoply on the truth, a hegemony over interpretation, but few have been willing to be as self-critical as the author has claimed of himself and his own endeavors into the intellectual sphere. While one could attribute this to a feeling of anti-intellectualism current within modern and populist understandings of Christianity and the Christian tradition (and I admit this is largely only applicable to my own understanding in the Western world).

I feel the same pressures in my own faith as the author outlines here. The intellectual/spiritual balance between self-criticism and "rational" logocentric western enlightment ideals as well as that of differring values and systematic approached to understanding life, metaphysics and the like. To be apart of this critical shift is important, but to view this as the author says, "to be apart of this as Muslims."

I agrue the same. To be apart of this world, or as the cliche goes, in this world, we must articulate outselves in a way relevant to recent intellectual endeavours while simultaneously not giving into the hegemony of interpretation, leaving roomn for us to do this as whatever it is that we may be, or ascribe to.

I swear to God that he'll surf

Time creeps up on you, as does responsibility. Today my best friend left to go to school in California. A month and a half ago, I was in Lebanon, unaware that this day would be coming. Now I am aware that I am obviously not in Lebanon, nor is he here, but on his way there. My mother summed it up best in her recent text message to me - "Bittersweet :-("

So now the question remains. Why do we allow time to assail us? Why do we acquiesce our lives over to the violent but often wonderful passage of time. Most moments are over before we are cognizant of their being here - I am self aware. And I, too, regret that fact now and more than likely will again soon as my emotional disposition will soon change causing me to evaluate and become aware of what I have lost, gained, and forgotten.

But I do remember as well, and I smile, and I congratulate Ryan on his new future for the next two years. I am nonetheless excited for him as he experiences new things and wakes up in California to a far away but not necessarily distant life.

Music doesn't treat me like it used to

Its really difficult to articulate the way I feel. At least on most days. I wish everything wasn't so cryptic. Is it possible to master the mind only using the mind? Is it possible to shed this self-awareness in which I move and locate myself and my emotional responses? Everything I feel is paired with an alternative emotion or a more global idea or desire. I think about myself then I think about my culture. I think about agency (do I have any?) and determination. I haven't read enough to know what I feel and if that feeling is worth knowing. Maybe everything I do is justified by an emotional response to that action or question or combination of the two.

What's worth knowing in this world? Is it worth thinking? Is it worth not thinking?

I want to know what that emptiness in my head is the result of, or lack thereof.

"getting a grip on letting go..."


Existence is more complicated that I assumed it would be. I can't blame "them" because they are just as susceptible.

"blithar blithar blithar"

Rational

I still don't know how to be completely honest with myself on here. This is an internal monologue turned digital and external. I was reading today in a a book about political theories (I cannot recall the title, much to my chagrin) about Vico and Hume. My attention was first turned to Vico through the writings of Isaiah Berlin, so when I saw this chapter I immediately turned to it. When I arrived to the section on Hume, I was particularly interested in Hume's idea about rationality and history. He pits rationality against passion (Kierkegaard?) and says that rational behavior historically is at odds to the passions of man. History and politics are not guided by rational behavior but by the internal burning of the hearts of men, and if this so happens to take the form of rational judgment then this is a rare example. Now I do not know much more about Hume and his philosophical work, but I find that small section particularly noteworthy.

And again.

How do you hear the voice of God? What language does he speak? Are the heavenly realms a whisper in the Cosmos compared to the unbridled power of the words of the Divine? I am convinced that this is jargon, irrational, and extremely important. What power do words hold and to what degree do we surrender ourselves to word and motive? I have no answer. I have no real understanding besides what I have experienced or perceived. Is that enough? What validates my understanding? It may contradict yours and most likely if it has not at this point, it will in the future.

...

We over estimate the rational ability of human beings. I can easily hold two contradicting thoughts in my head and think them not to be at odds. This is existence. How do we reckon with it?

I am starting to think that God speaks. Not in tongues. Not in religious rhetoric. Not in Relevant Christian trends. Its larger than relevancy. It is larger than socio-cultural boundaries. It is larger than religion and religious traditions.

I don't know what this means, to be terribly honest. I don't know what you will think of it and I can't say that I don't care regardless, because I do. I am unsure of the ramifications and logical or illogical conclusions. I am slightly worried that these might be hormonal imbalances. But at the risk of sounding unintelligible and cryptic (this risk is taken and almost guaranteed to have been a loss), I think I hear God (under what guise?).

and it sounds absolutely nothing like they said it would.

There is nothing new under the sun, but today feels different

There is something new for me here. In this place. I know now why monastic orders retreat into the desert and whisper promises over themselves that were originally whispered by something other, something larger, something here but not here, us but not us. This is no contradiction. This is not formal logic. What works logically and formally in an illogical and informal world? I receive both of these. I accept all of it.

Who am I now? Who was I then? Are they not the same person? Am I not the same?

I am both.