Hold fast to your fast fast

It's not a good sentence (the title), but it's grammatically correct. That's what's so fascinating about language: the statement can be completely correct, but it means little, and sometimes nothing at all (as in, who can forget Chomsky's infamous "Colorless green ideas sleep furiously"? Whereby I find that particular sentence more poignant than many I've heard in the latest run-up to the primaries in America.) Yes, yesterday was the the kick-off, so to speak, and tomorrow is the big day: Tomorrow, Lent begins. Are you going to fast, or are you above all that? And, if you are, do you know why you are doing it? It's all not self-evident, you know, even if you think it's clear.

I don't know many people who fast anymore, other than for dietary reasons. It used to be that everyone fasted two days a week (Monday and Thursday, if you were Jewish; Tuesday and Friday, if Christian ... tells you something doesn't it?). At least for my Roman Catholic-influenced friends, bells should be ringing. What is more, there were particular times of year (for example, since we mentioned it recently, from 11 November till Christmas, and now Lent, prior to Easter ... which is also two times, which should also tell you something).

Some people will tell you that this was because food was scarce and it simply made good economic sense. Others will tell you, well, nothing, because they have no idea or never thought about it. Most people familiar with religion don't really know why these fasts were proclaimed, and the only ones we ever really hear about these days -- and this most often in an act of belittling and denigration -- is Ramadan, the great Muslim fast of the year. In a religious context, however, it was always about being aware of one's own body (and its needs) in contrast to the Spirit which was, at times, seen complementary to the body and since the rise of the Church (and certainly since Descartes) as its opponent, if not enemy.

When seen in such simplistic terms, I agree, we should just stomp it all into the wastebasket (dustbin, for my Anglo friends). This playing off of the body against the spirit was one way of looking at things, to be sure, and it served its purpose in its time, but we should be beyond that now. Having said that, though, we would be remiss in dismissing the spirit because it doesn't fit into our materialistic worldview. Even serious physicists have acknowledged that consciousness (yes, spirit) has an important and intimate relationship with matter. Perhaps it is time to start rethinking some of the things that we simply take for granted as true.

Body and mind are not a duality, they are part of a whole that is greater than either of them, a synergy, if you will. Our mind can affect our bodies (self-healing of congenital illnesses, psychosomatic illnesses) and our bodies certainly affect our minds (ever try to solve a life-crisis when you're ill?).

Fasting -- and there are many ways to describe it -- is, if properly understood, a way of reactivating the link between the physical and non-physical. Instead of merely thinking that this is another old custom that has outlived its usefulness, perhaps we should slow down, reconsider and recognize that there were good reasons for things long before we even knew what reasons were.

The cycle of life and our lives

As a kid, I remember the family going down to the orchard at the main crossroads not far from our house, taking along our own cider jugs to buy gallons of freshly made cider (and drinking what we could while we were there) because that was the only time of year you could get it. After all, they were local apples and they didn't ripen until fall. End of story. Now, you can get any kind of apple juice you want any time you want it, and so it's not special anymore. Not much is special anymore. And when nothing is special, nothing is appreciated. When nothing is appreciated, nothing is valued. It simply diminishes our lives.

Another important, and for me, favorite, time of year is the late summer/early fall when the wine is harvested. Of course, that's only really significant to those of us who live in wine-growing regions, though I'm sure that each region has its own special products or customs. At any rate, it is at harvest time that we get new wine, and along with it, the local bakers start making onion and other quiches, because that's what you eat when you're drinking new wine. We only get them at that time of year, and there is a deeply satisfying and enriching feeling when you have them because you know that you haven't had them for a year and it's going to be another year before you get them again. These are aromas, tastes, sensations and feelings that happen only in 12-month intervals.

That our lives plays out in cycles is nothing new. The Ancients knew it and in fact entire civilizations endured for millennia based primarily on this simple principle. Don't get me wrong: I have no intention or desire to "turn back the clock" (an interesting phrase in itself) to an earlier age. I'm not making the case that there was a time when things were simply better. What I am saying is that recognizing and acknowledging the cycles of life enriches our individual lives. It's really very simple.

To be sure, globalization is taking its toll. We're so overwhelmed with everything anytime and anywhere that we can't tell the difference between what is and what is not, what is meaningful and what is merely mundane. We don't mark our times, our pathway through the year. We aren't aware of the cycles of nature and we're the poorer in spirit, if nothing else, because of it.

Strawberries and asparagus

Sometimes it makes me sad when I think that we moderns don't know much about anything anymore, especially things that were related to the year and weather and celebrations and whatever. Oh sure, folks more closely linked to the land, like farmers, have more awareness of such things, but not in any formalized way. There was a time when everyone knew about it because that was the method used to mark the journey through the year.

When I was in Wroclaw a couple of years ago in early June, we had strawberry pierogies for lunch (along with other types of pierogies), and they were eaten with a thick strawberry milk (almost like a milkshake) sauce. Not only were they outstanding, I recall how passionately enthused our Polish partners were that it was "strawberry time". They only ate strawberries when they were in season and that was the season, and they were ecstatic. And it's an enthusiasm that's infectious.

Just a few days ago, we had asparagus for dinner; the last of the year. The Germans generally eat white asparagus and you only get it from mid-April to the 26th of May. That's asparagus season. It's not really eaten at any other time of the year. It's always a meal with new boiled potatoes, asparagus, Hollandaise or butter-lemon sauce, and some kind of a meat side, like a Schnitzel or dried smoked ham or perhaps grilled salmon. It's an exciting time of year because it's asparagus season (and strawberry season, so most desserts and cakes have strawberries in or on them); it's special.

Now, you can get strawberries the year round, and you can get white asparagus the year round, but I don't really know anybody who buys or eats them other than "in season". I'm sure there are enough people who do or the stores wouldn't be offering them. You can have just about anything you want any time you want, but the result is that nothing is special anymore.

Special things at special times make for very special feelings. When that's gone, life becomes mundane and monotonous. Everything simply becomes everyday. And that's sad.

Winter is here again

Many winters have come and gone since I started my Great Journey. Of some of them I was aware, and there are others that have melted away without leaving the slightest trace.

What I have noticed in recent years is that they're getting colder. Well, in the way I'm thinking all the seasons are starting to cool off. Oh sure, temperatures are increasing. Physically, climatologically we're experiencing a global warming, and its effects are being noticed the most in the developed regions of the world. We have the time and opportunity to devote to things like that.

But inside ... well, that's a whole different story. Inside, it's getting colder. Inside, we're getting colder.

This is also in my experience a developed-country thing. We in the West have got it good ... in some regards, too good, in others, there is plenty of room for improvement. But I've noticed a coldness descending upon our hearts. We're too ready to blame the victims for being victims. We're too quick to judge by appearances. We're ignorant of our collective history and when we find out how different it is from what we were told -- in school, at home, in church, wherever -- we distance ourselves and cry foul when we as individuals are asked to accept our responsibility from it. We're lightning fast at generalizing from our own anecdotal experience and so slow and recognizing, let alone, acknowledging the bigger picture.

The detachment from others that comes from individualization has many positive aspects. It is a good and necessary part of our development that we become our own persons, but we become less, not more, of a person when we allow that detachment to actually separate us from others. We can still smell, hear and see far beyond the boundaries of our own bodies and those oders or aromas, those wails or harmonies, those nightmarish images or inspiring visions still affect us ... if we let them. Most people know on the inside how they are affected, even if they don't often show it on the outside. To know more, to use our other senses, to taste or to feel, we'd have to get closer, but we don't ... for fear of becoming infected, I suppose.

And so we distance ourselves from our own world. We avoid being touched or touching. We stay aloof, unmoved, ensconced in our individual little fortresses that we foolishly think will protect us from what's "out there". And we become isolated, and lonely, and cold.

Many winters have come and gone since I started my Great Journey. And they're getting colder.

A day of reflection

May may be a merry month overall, but today at least is a good day to put the merriment aside and stop to reflect. It never hurts to reflect a bit, and I think today is an especially good day for that.

What too many people don't know any more, but today is marks the 68th anniversary of the end of the Second World War in Europe. On this day in 1945, the Germans officially surrendered ending hostilities here.

I, for one, certainly do not gloat on days like today. Some people like to think it marks the winning of a war. Wars can't be won, they can only end. What's even better is if they never start.

The Second World War was a stupid war. Oh, sure, there are lots of folks who like to maintain that it was a "just" war; lots of others like to proclaim it was the last "just" war that America fought. The phrase "just war" is an oxymoron, like everything else that has to do with war. I'll go so far to agree that it was probably a necessary war. But wars only ever become necessary after the fact. If you do you're job right ahead of time, you can avoid wars ... at least most of the time. But, necessary or not, they're still stupid. You can't fix stupid.

For all of you who think I'm dishonoring all those who supposedly did all they did so that I can sit here and spout off such drivel, think again. I'm not dishonoring them. They did what they thought they had to do. When I was later faced with a war, I did what I thought I had to do. Other guys did other things. That's their business, just like what I did was mine. The war I was face with was even more stupid than the "big one", as my dad used to call it. This is another one of those cases where size doesn't matter.

Just so we're straight on this: all wars are stupid. It is simply impossible to have a smart war. No wars are good wars, for they always cause more problems than they solve. And, for those of you who like to believe that sometimes war is simply the last resort, well, it only is if you fail to solve your problems when you should.

You'd think after a few hundred thousand years of human history the penny would have dropped. Maybe we're not as smart as we like to think we are.

The merry month of May

Well, here we are, almost a whole week into the merry month of May.

What's so merry about it? Is this particular one supposed to be merry, or the month just generally speaking more lighthearted than the others.

I think it's just one of those quirky English turns of phrase we like so much.

We're pretty much out of time. I'm referring to us moderns. It's not the first time I bring it up, and I'm sure it won't be the last. We simply have too loose a relationship with it anymore. Maybe there was a reason for May to be merry, or for people to be merry in May.

When you get right down to it, you don't have to look very far to find a reason (or more): Walpurgis Night leads into the month, and as I mentioned a couple of posts ago, that means -- these days in particular -- most likely a dance to get into the month. Then there is the legendary May Pole. Phallic symbol or not, it raises images of mirth and frolicking, does it not? At least we in Europe have a holiday to kick start the month ... that's worth thinking about instituting every month. And traditionally, May meant it was time to bathe. Oh yeah, once a year whether you needed it or not, and May was the first real opportunity. You wanted fresh June brides, you know.

OK, it's more than a turn of phrase, there appears to be method to our standard madness.

I'm a big May fan, of course. In most years, we've got two Thursday holidays in these parts, and Thursday holidays simply lend themselves to taking Friday (as the Germans call it a Brückentag, or literally, a "bridge day") off as well. More reason to be merry. My German anniversary is in May, another reason to celebrate (and due to modern conveniences, I can take care of that bath thing any time I please).

Chance are good that even though I like the month more than most, you won't find me out frolicking. I'm pretty sure my frolicking days are over. But, there's no reason not to be a bit more upbeat than usual. Even my American friends and family can get a little of spirit of the month, I suppose, even if they have to wait until the very end of the month to get it (Memorial Day) ... unofficially, and for them, summer starts.

I can live with that.

Scary times again

Everybody's familiar with the ghosts, goblins and scary creatures of all kinds at Halloween. That's why we get all dressed up, put on costumes to confuse the evil spirits and go about playing tricks and getting treats. But did you know, that precisely six months prior, things can get scary as well?

Halloween may be the time of bidding the sun good-bye for the dark half of the year, but the other half is light. It only makes sense. The time to celebrate the banishing of the dark, then, is now; that is, on 30 April, for this marks the other halfway point in the year. Why don't we celebrate it?

It's not like we don't have a name for it. It is Walpurgis Night. Unfortunately, it's fallen into some disrepute over the years. Too bad, really. I think it's a great time to celebrate. Walpurgis Night is often associated with witches and their sabbath, with strange goings-on out in the woods and on the mountain tops. Goethe is his epic Faust included a Walpurgis-Night scene in both parts. The last chapter in book five of Thomas Mann's Magic Mountain is named thereafter, as is Act Two of Albee's play Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?. Not a one of these literary associations has done anything to rehabilitate the day ... or night, if you will. Too bad.

The next day, of course, is May Day. No, not as in our ship is sinking and we're in desperate need of help, but as in dancing-around-the-maypole-day. Now, there's a light-hearted, carefree, slightly bawdy, luscious, if not voluptuous image to pursue. If there ever was a day for romping and frolicking, I suppose that's it, especially since we decided we'd have no more of Midsummer, which is really oddly named since it is the beginning of the season, not the middle of it. But, that doesn't matter.

I suppose this all got suppressed in Puritanical America (I mean, what doesn't get suppressed there?), though I can't help but think we have to lay the blame squarely at the feet of those evil communists. For whatever reason, they decided to make the 1st of May their day honoring Labor (not work, mind you), and the moment the communists are in play, well, it's clear that Americans, at any rate can have nothing to do with that so they let their paranoia force them to create their own Labor Day, which they stuck out in September. The only value it serves anymore is to let school kids know that they're either back or about to be back in school. Yeah, great reason to celebrate.

Here in tradition-rich Europe, however, May Day is still May Day, and Walpurgis Night, instead of being one of dark, foreboding, witches' rituals will see a lot of partying and dancing going on. On the evening of the 30th there will Dances into May country-wide, and the party won't stop, of course, till the wee hours of the morning. But there's a workfree day there to greet them.

We can honor labor ... in the sense that we can be thankful we don't have to work the day after the night before.

Societal remnants

There are some of you who are bothered by absolute statements; that is, statements that appear to mean "this and nothing other". For example, when I say, "We have no society anymore." It's not that I actually mean that there is nothing even resembling a society, rather, whatever we have is of such little importance and draws so little attention, that we might as well not have one, for what we do try to hold onto doesn't seem to count.

I suppose there are any number of reasons for this ... not my statements, but how we deal with those few social aspects that we seem to have left. I'm fortunate in that most of the people I know have some kind of family (siblings or cousins, the odd aunt or uncle somewhere not too far away, perhaps even one or both of our parents still alive), but many people I know live far enough away from their "home" that family get-togethers are often reserved for one of the big holidays, generally Thanksgiving or Christmas. For the rest of the year, we're pretty much just on own own. Of course, I also know a few people who don't get along with even what little family they have. I find that sad, though, but I will admit that blood ties are no antidote to sphincteriety (that is, simply being an asshole, an all-too-common malaise).

When we look at the year, we find that it is fairly artificially constructed anymore. In the USA, for example, there is a Monday holiday in January (MLK Day), February (President's Day), May (Memorial Day), September (Labor Day) and October (Columbus Day). None of these, it should be noted has anything to do with anything natural, no seasonal or time-of-year events. Easter has lost its meaning most places (Good Friday is often a half-workday), the same applies to Christmas (Eve). Thanksgiving is something of a harvest festival, so it's placement in November is reasonable, even if it conflicts with Veteran's Day, but it was just set there, and so that leaves only New Year's Day as a real seasonal holiday, for it marks the beginning of the year.

Though the holidays in Germany vary a little (May is always a big month because that's generally when Pentecost (whose Monday is work-free), Ascension Day and Corpus Christi (both of which are always on Thursdays) occur. We also get Good Friday and Easter Monday off, but unlike some places, if variable-day holidays (e.g. New Year's Eve and Day, May Day, German Unification (Oct. 3), All Saint's, and Christmas) fall on a weekend, for example, there's no compensation at work; you simply have the holiday on the weekend. Here, however, the Church Year plays a dominant role, but the selection of this or that day to be celebrated or designated as a holiday is fairly arbitrary, as it is elsewhere.

When the weather's nice, we have barbecues and picnics and family outings on such days, and if we're lucky, and the extended family is in the vicinity, we may even manage a short visit to one of the relatives. On the whole, though, holidays have become more or less a mere counterpart to work.

We have holidays of our own making, and too many people don't even know why anymore. There's nothing natural about that. Our years, our lives are just sort of made up.

Happy Easter!

For all you non-Christians out there, and for all you who call yourself Christian but who perhaps have forgotten, today is the biggest event of your religious year. Oh, I know, we like to do things up right at Christmas, but if you stop to think about it, Easter is t-h-e Christian holiday. No Easter, no Christianity.

According to the story, it was Easter when Jesus arose from the dead. It was the resurrection that distinguished the belief of those who came to be called Christians from all other believers at the time. I know a lot of theological baggage has been added over time, but the heart of the matter is that Jesus is the one who many have come to believe has conquered death.

Death, however, is a very touchy subject, is it not? There are not few cultures who have a really difficult time - as a culture, not as individuals - dealing with it. Americans are perhaps the best example. In their obsession with youth and beauty and, more than almost anything else, fun, they tend not to spend a lot of time contemplating death. OK, contemplation may be a bit much, but I really think it is time that we realized that death is as much a part of life as life is.

Death is not as bad for those who die as for those who remain. We can believe what we want about what happens to us when we die, but we can't be sure. We can be sure, however, of how we feel when we lose a loved one, when someone close to us is no more. No, we don't live forever, at least not on this place of existence, and we have to realize that all that we do is constrained by this simple fact. I think a healthy awareness and acknowledgement of this fact can help us think a bit more about what we do, and even more importantly, what we don't do.

We too readily blame, threaten, intimidate, harass, ignore, disparage, or look down on others. We too readily manage, control, order, suppress, force, coerce, or even abuse, others as well (that's really what modern management most legal systems are all about, in the end). We too readily send young people off to war. We too readily accept pain, suffering, despair, hunger, illness, willingly blaming the victims for their fate. We never quite seem to be able to muster the courage, the fortitude, the humanity to just say "no" to greed, corruption, and power.

I like to think that holidays were once the opportunity for us to stop and think, to reflect upon what we do and do not do, what we believe and what we reject, but as it is, most of us no longer know why we have holidays, why we celebrate, or what we could possibly make of such days. You know, there are a lot of ways to die, the most overlooked is simply no longer being able to feel compassion or empathy for others.

Easter eggs and chocolate can help sweeten up the day, to be sure, but do yourself a favor and make a more lasting contribution to overcoming the death that is so widespread in today's world. Resurrect your own feelings and put them to good use.

What's so good about Good Friday?

Growing up I learned about what allegedly happened on this day in history and asked myself, "So what's so good about it?" It seemed silly to call a day "good" on which somebody was put to death in such a horrific way. Granted, it is a necessary event to the big one that follows - Easter - but it all just seemed a bit bizarre to me.

Of course, being young and, well, more ignorant than I am now, there were a lot of things I didn't know. And one of these things is that over time, words simply change and shift their meanings. We tend to think that our language is however it is, at whatever time we speak, read, and write it, but there are times in which it changes more rapidly than others (like now, for example, with the rapid and broad-based influx of English words into German, for example) and there are times when it changes very, very slowly (for example over the couple of hundred years that it took, say, "awful" and "awesome" to literally exchange meanings). The bottom line is, though, that language changes all the time. Trying to stop it from changing is like trying to hold back the tide with your hands. This is very bothersome to some people, but I haven't yet figured out why.

The "good" in Good Friday is one of those words. There was a time when it meant more than it does today. It included meanings such as "pious" and, particularly relevant here, "holy". But, most of us don't know that anymore, and a growing number of people don't care, as long as they get their holiday; that is, a day, or perhaps only half-a-day, off work. Holidays are simply no longer "Holy Days", and it would seem than not much of anything is holy anymore.

This is really too bad. Oh, I know, some really terrible things have been done to our fellow humans beings in the name of things considered "holy". What one person reveres as holy, another thinks is a silly superstition, or as mundane as things can be. I don't think we have to agree on what is or what isn't holy, but there are times when I think that thinking something is holy isn't a bad idea.

The word has negative connotations for some, I know, but all religiously and spiritually tinged words do, but what is at stake is really the acknowledgement that there just might be something that we could all agree is worth striving to uphold or protect or that we could agree is actually priceless; that is, not "without price" but "beyond price", beyond what money could possibly buy, even if we wanted to.

In thinking about this, I became dismayed that I wasn't able to identify anything that all of us could agree on. We've come to a time in which there are significantly large groups of people in various places, who, for various reasons, believe that anything can be bought and sold. This was a sad realization. Maybe I just didn't think about it long enough, or hard enough, or clearly enough, even though I think I did. Maybe I've overlooked something, and if I have, do let me know. In the meantime, I'll just have to muddle along with the consequences of knowing that no matter what it is, someone somewhere is probably willing to pay money for it. How sad can you get?

Boing!

I don't know if you hear it, but yesterday at 11:02 UTC Spring sprang. Looking outside, you probably wouldn't know it otherwise, if I hadn't have told you. Some of us were thinking it's today, others were sure it was tomorrow. I mean, none of us is far off, it's always around this time, but the astrophysical time-masters have been tracking the data and if anyone knows just when what out there is supposed to be somewhere, they're the ones to ask.

We made it! Winter is officially behind us.

Of course, when I look out the window and when I think about being outside, I'm not thinking spring, official or not. That's the thing about something being "official". I'm not sure it means a lot out here in reality where just about everything of significance is anything but "official".

Really, when my kids were born, that were some of the greatest moments of my life, but none of those births were "official" until they had been registered. Or when their birthdays come. It's past midnight, and anyone and everyone can -- and should -- wish them a Happy Birthday, even though it's not "official" till at least their birth time comes around, but hey, who's counting? The same is true for anniversaries, both happy and sad (such as weddings, engagements, and, yes, even deaths). What is real, and when we choose to remember is necessary and important, and it's never really "official".

Things have certainly changed since the times when I grew up -- as well they should have, some of it for the better, of course -- and I have to admit that one of the things I hear less about these days than then is how "official" things are. When I say that winter is "officially" behind us, it really doesn't carry that authoritative tone that it did when I was young. That's good I think. Part of the consequence is that a lot of young people have less respect for authority than we were encouraged (required?) to have. I don't think that's a bad thing.

You see, in my day, people were shown (not necessarily given) respect by virtue of their position: the policeman, the pastor or priest, the teacher, the mayor or governor or ... oh, the list goes on. These were, and are, of course, "official" personages. But, most of those people today are people somewhere around my age, and I have to say that associating respect and position just doesn't cut for me. It didn't do a lot for me then, and absolutely nothing for me now: each and every one of these officials have shown us quite clearly that money and power and advantage were more important than what their "official" position actually required. So we have scandal after scandal after scandal and it doesn't strike us as odd that there is nothing respectable about scandals. It is now up to each and every "official" person to show, demonstrate, and prove that s/he is worthy and deserving of our respect.

Yes, it's "officially" spring, but it's not acting like it. So, I'll keep waiting.

Spring ahead

Did you know that there is not just one season called spring? No, I don't mean that there's a spring in the Northern Hemisphere and half a year later there's one in the Southern Hemisphere. We've got a tilted earth and there's simply not a whole lot we can do about that. This is what we might call the beginning of cosmological spring, for that's how our particular corner of the universe has been put together.

No, I'm talking about the "other" spring ... the meteorological spring. For whatever reason, whoever came up with our calendar simply refused to acknowledge that the seasons, like the signs of the zodiac, and all that stuff nobody likes to think about anymore all start around the 20th or 21st of their given months. Spring "officially" starts at the spring equinox, that day/time, if you will where we have equal periods of light and dark (more or less ... it's not all that precise). In the spring, the sun is making it's yearly journey north (for those of us upon this side of the world), and at some point, it crosses the so-called celestial equator, whereas in the fall, at the autumnal equinox, the sun is heading south again ... like lots of us in the North would like to do in the winter. That whole snowbird idea was around a long time before we thought of calling it that. Oh yeah, this year it will "happen" on March 20, 2013 at 11:02 UTC (or just after 5 am for those of you in New York).

When you stop to think about it, we're pretty much out of touch with nature and the natural cycles of things. I mean for millennia, literally thousands of years, day began when the sun came up; it ended when the sun went down and that's when night started, which ended when the sun came up again ... well, you get the picture. Actually, if we really wanted to get technical (which I don't) the sun doesn't rise or set at all, the earth turns and it looks as the sun is rising or setting. Some metaphors sit very, very deep. Others not so much. So now a "day" begins and end at "midnight" (which is the completely wrong word when you think about it), and months start on their first, but the actual seasons, well, they still follow pretty much the same old pattern

Pretty much. Weather people, regardless of how chaotic their subject matter may inherently be, are still trying hard to force a bit of order onto that chaos, so they've come up with meteorological seasons. It's simple: March, April and May constitute spring; June, July and August make up summer; fall consists of September, October and November, and winter runs from December through February. Very neat, very orderly, very much out of rhythm, but, hey, who's paying all that much attention anymore?

So, in a sense, spring has already sprung. It sprang ahead of itself. It's already spring, winter's over, aren't we glad? I suppose, but it doesn't feel that much like spring yet. I'd say winter is dragging his feet. I wonder if the sun has some heavy burden that's slowing him down? Oh well, for some of us, we've still got almost a week to go.