Tuesday, January 29, 2019

THE LABYRINTH OF INTROSPECTION

by Ray Jason

Something in the Sea awoke me. I wondered if the sound had only been from a dream, so I listened intently in the darkness. There it was again. It was near, but unrecognizable. I grabbed my flashlight and pepper spray and quietly slipped on deck to investigate. Nothing appeared unusual, but then I heard the sound again. It was up near the bow.
       The moon was half full, so I didn’t use the flashlight as I crept forward, because I know every contour of my boat like a sculptor knows clay. As I got close to the bow, I was startled by a sudden squawk and then the flapping of wings as a black-crowned night heron flew swiftly away. It had been fishing from my anchor chain.
       I chuckled and apologized to the fleeing bird, and then I went below to make some tea. There were still a couple of hours before dawn, but the unexpected encounter had jolted me awake. It seemed like an excellent time to seek some clarity on a topic that had been fermenting within me for a while.
       Recently, a young reader had written to me in muted desperation. He confessed that his life seemed like an indecipherable jumble of thoughts, emotions and insecurities. He said that he admired the way that I could discuss complex topics in such a clear and organized fashion. He was envious of how confident and free from doubt my life seemed to be.
       And so, in this peaceful, isolated cove I settled in with a cup of tea, my clipboard and its tiny light, to reassure that unknown reader that I too am often assaulted by a “jumble of thoughts, emotions and insecurities.”


                                                    *******

       My recent uncertainties had revolved around a seriously important question – “Why bother?” When I first began my blog several years ago, I was so delighted by the miraculous fact that I could share my perspectives on Life with unknown readers scattered around the planet. My desire to do this can be traced back to a college classroom and five simple words.
       My favorite professor, a man named Matthew Mc Sorley, was trying to explain what distinguishes all truly enduring art. His belief was that whether it was Shakespeare or Rembrandt or Mozart, they were all seeking through their literature or painting or music to help unravel “the riddle of human existence.”
       Such a noble quest inspired me then, and has shaped me down all of the decades of my life. Trying to make the world a slightly better place during one’s fleeting years here, has been essential to my ocean-striding “path less taken.” Tilt your head slightly, and you will see on the right side of this page the ultimate distillation of my personal philosophy into six words:
 
      Help many – harm none – be amazed!
      
      Suddenly I had a platform where I could share my (attempts at) insights with whomever might find them of value. Plus, there were no gatekeepers to censor me – no magazine editors or book publishers trembling in the presence of “dissident views.” This was a glorious blessing, and I embraced it along with the vital responsibility to be truthful and compassionate. For years and years and years and years, I posted a new essay every two weeks.
       But then, in the Summer of 2017, when I crewed on that successful sailboat voyage through the fabled and ferocious Northwest Passage, something changed. Perhaps it was the 86 days of dangerous isolation. Or maybe it was the vast, frozen emptiness. Or could it have been all of that time for reflection with almost no outside intrusions from the so-called Real World? Or possibly it was the stress of being jammed into such a confined space for so long with four other people, when I have spent most of my life blissfully alone. Regardless, it was a seismic shock to my sense of purpose.
       I began to wonder whether I was pursuing a worthy quest - or whether I was just a foolish cyber Don Quixote flailing away with a laptop lance? Such doubt becomes particularly burdensome when in the Autumn of one’s years.
      Perhaps it makes more sense to just wander the Wide Waters in my sweet little boat, savoring the beauty and majesty of our magnificent planet. Maybe it was time to set a new course - away from the maelstrom of politics and economics and war and injustice.
                                                  
                                                     *******

       After all, had the world improved in the half decade of my blog? Hardly. A new planetary arms race is underway, the surveillance grid has expanded with an apparent fierce inevitability, and Faustian fools are still trying to convince us that merging Man and Machine is a good thing. The gap between the rich and … everybody else …. has dramatically widened, free speech is eroding swiftly, and tensions between religious, racial and ethnic groups are barely below the boiling point.
       I could list a dozen other trends that indicate how profoundly social conditions are worsening. And what is so discouraging about this accelerating decline is the fact that we have now had a full decade of “alternative media.” Independent researchers and thinkers have been doing their utmost with just their laptops and convictions to counteract the downward vector of the human condition.
       So if an army of caring and determined cyber-warriors are not slowing the descent, how puny must my own efforts be? Try as I may to convince myself that I am a philosophical finger in the dam, it is possible that I am but a needle in the dam – and the deluge continues to rush past.
       Coupled with my despair over the direction of the human project, is my deeper understanding of those who are shaping that future. Most of them are not just inept or arrogant or deceitful, they are vile – although you could re-arrange the letters in that word and perhaps arrive at a more accurate assessment.
       In my Political Science courses in college, we were deceived into believing that politicians care about the interests of the regular folks that they supposedly represent. That is a fraud and a delusion. They are driven by self-interest and a psychotic lust for Power.
       And Big Media, which is supposed to be a watchdog against the ruling class, has degraded itself into a herd of sycophants who kiss the feet of the overlords. Their only decision seems to be which toe to lick first.
       This was never revealed to me, or even hinted at, during college, even though I have a bachelor’s degree in Political Science. It reminds me of the great Mark Twain quotation:
        
      “If you don’t read the newspaper in the morning you are uninformed. But if you do read it, you are misinformed.”
      
      But the arrival of the World Wide Web suddenly made it possible to do deep research and finally uncloak what is really going on behind the scenes. And what is revealed is a putrid stew of corruption, wars started by lies, assassination and even more horrific deeds than these.
       Why would I voluntarily peer into that loathsome cauldron stirred by the dregs of humanity? Why would I not just sail away and savor the unbearable beauty of our garden planet, spinning amongst a million dead planets?
      And so, my young unknown reader out there who grapples with self-doubt, rest assured that you are not alone in your insecurity. Almost everyone who strives to decode the riddle of human existence struggles with similar demons. Good luck to you as you sort this out and find your own Path.

                                                    *******

       As I completed this essay while sitting on deck with my back against the mast, I noticed that dawn was beginning to pastel the East. I went below and brought my little sound system topside to serenade myself with my favorite sunrise music. It is the Adagio from Khachaturian’s brilliant score for the Spartacus ballet. Its combination of noble sadness and soaring majesty seems like the perfect accompaniment to a new dawn aglow with fresh hope.
       Suddenly, after the first few bars, the little black-crowned night heron flew back to my boat and again perched itself on my anchor chain. It seemed to be listening as contentedly as I was. Then I lightheartedly scolded myself, “Ray, you are such a romantic dreamer. The little night bird is not listening to the music along with you. It is just looking for a fish.”
       For nine more minutes the music built exquisitely towards its heroic conclusion. Bird and Man sat together bathed in the light from the amber horizon. And the ancient fool within me, wondered whether this was as close as we mortals ever come to experiencing the Eternal Now. 


      


      Here is a link so that you can also experience this wondrous sunrise music.  What I like to do is to try and time the actual instant that the sun peeks over the horizon with the magnificent crescendo climax at 6:15 in the piece.  Enjoy! 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZLMKkEGFRo