Scientists have provided the first clear evidence that memories can survive metamorphosis in Lepidopterans. Lepidoptera is the order that includes moths and butterflies, and in this particular study, the researches used moths, but “butterfly buddha” alliterates nicely, and besides, they’re family. Given that moths are active mainly at night, while butterflies are active mainly during the day, we might call moths the butterflies of the unconscious. Now we can listen for Jungian undertones as we consider the straight science.
The study involved teaching caterpillars to avoid a certain odor they wouldn’t normally avoid. Researchers then checked to see if they would avoid the smell after metamorphosing into moths. As long as the training occurred after the caterpillars reached a certain age, the memories persisted into their reincarnation as moths.
This study inspires me to take a few moments for some butterfly reverence. Butterflies might be a barometer for human impact on the environment. There seem to be fewer and fewer butterflies thanks to widespread pesticide use and irresponsible land development. Because they have a complex life pattern, they reveal the interconnectedness of things, and they warn us about how delicately some of Gaia’s great tapestries are woven.
The subtlety and sophistication of Gaia’s hand shows itself everywhere you look, but casting a glance at the relationship between butterflies and the rest of the world can make your jaw drop. For instance, the rare Bathurst Copper butterfly lives out its caterpillar days fully supported by ants. During the day, the caterpillars sleep in the ant colony. At night they are escorted by the ants––yes, escorted––to feed on Blackthorn plants. The ants watch over the caterpillar with such dedication that if something shakes the plant, the ants go right into action, with some of them escorting the caterpillar to safety while others go to attack whatever is shaking the plant! You can read more about this relationship if you like.
Butterflies exemplify Kantian aesthetics. When we say they are beautiful, we don’t mean “to me anyway.” We mean they just ARE. When we marvel at them, we don’t mean, “well, I think they’re fascinating.” We mean they just ARE. Perhaps if we keep our love of them alive, and encourage every man, woman, and child to let that beauty and mystery WORK on us as a species, maybe butterflies will help us become sustainable in our way of being. Here are a few butterfly tidbits. Please share some of your favorites as well!
________________________________
Wake up! wake up!
be my friend
sleeping butterfly.
Basho
__________________
You are the butterfly
and I the dreaming heart
of Chuang-tzu.
Basho
__________________
The fallen blossom
has returned to the branch;
no, it was a butterfly.
Arakida Moritake
___________________
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.
Neruda
___________________
In hand-heights, the dazzle of butterflies,
butterflies setting sail in their unbounded light.
Neruda
___________________
The monkeys wove a thread
interminably erotic
along the banks of dawn,
demolishing walls of pollen
and flushing the violet light
of the butterflies from Buga.
Neruda
_____________________
the spear stuck in the pure stone
the wounded fish flapped in the light
harsh flag of an uncaring sea
butterfly of bloodstain and salt.
Neruda
______________________
a butterfly hovers in front of her face
how long will she sleep
Ikkyu
_____________________
In one breath
the haiku exhales
a butterfly
R. D. McManes
____________________
A broken dream––
where do they go
the butterflies?
Death poem of Ichimu
____________________
The dreamy feelings
when held between our fingers––
a butterfly
Buson
___________________
On a temple bell
alights and naps
a butterfly
Buson
__________________
Such is the world
the life of a butterfly
busy too
Issa
__________________
To buy its dream
no butterflies appear––
a winter peony
Buson
__________________
Making a pillow
of my arm––
a butterfly is asleep
Issa
_____________________
Now the butterflies, yellow
in September, fly in pairs
over the grass in the west garden.
The scene breaks my heart.
Li Bai
________________________
And Wisdom is a butterfly
And not a gloomy bird of prey.
Yeats
Check out this great bit of journalism put out by the L.A. Times:
Altered Oceans, a five-part series on the crisis of the seas
The oceans of the world may have already hit a tipping point. We can only begin to imagine what that will mean in the next 10-20 years. Of course, we may still have time to work productively. Besides, a sustainable way of being ultimately has nothing to do with “saving” the oceans. We should live sustainably because we recognize that we should live sustainably, that the way of being implied by sustainable living puts us in harmony with our most precious ideals.
Many of you may have seen this series. It came out in 2006, and it contained not only print but also online content, including video and several dozen photos. It ended up winning a Pulitzer in 2007.
If you never interacted with this piece (read and viewed it and let it work on you) I encourage you to do so. It should act as a clarion call. Obama supporters, will he “save” our oceans? Why is the sustainability crisis not a major campaign issue?
A few warnings:
The third video in part three contains somewhat graphic imagery of a manatee autopsy. The photos in that part also include shots from the autopsy.
The videos in general are not that pleasant to watch, but the whole thing could have been far more graphic. It’s an important series.
“The psychological rule says that when an inner situation is not made conscious, it happens outside, as fate.” Jung
Some of Shostakovish's music, in particular the Fifth Symphony, seems to warn us that we are about to realize a painful fulfillment of Jung's formulation. If we do not reconcile the contradictions between what we claim to value most on the one hand, and what our behavior and our way of being reveal about us on the other, our fate is a breakdown. The climate crisis represents the grand externalization of humanity’s inner storms, the drought of the spirit, the heat of cognitive dissonance. The current turmoil . . . Iran, Iraq, Israel, and elsewhere, it reveals the constant state of war within. Will we have the courage to face it, to grow into what we are even if the metamorphosis hurts, even if it scares us?
Continue reading "The Only Way I Know of to Live a Human Life" »
There is something special about Evo Morales' appearance on The Daily Show. But his appearance on Democracy Now is worth reading or watching as well. The discussion goes into greater depth. Here, as in the segment on The Daily Show, he emphasizes life: saving lives, caring for life on earth, being united as equal beings with equal rights to live a good life.
He makes some wonderful points during this discussion. Some are tremendously important for people to consider and then act on. Like biofuels. Morales puts the matter simply: food should be grown to feed people, not outdated machines. Growing crops to feed cars and machines creates a whole lot of problems. The solution Morales proposes for deciding the matter of biofuels is totally in line with the founding principles of the United States, which means it is totally out of line with our current practices: put it to a democratic referendum. Educate the people, then let them decide. What a revolutionary idea.
Other points are philosophically interesting and link up to current discussion on the sustainability crisis. Morales argues that "indigenous peoples are the moral reserve of humanity." Many thinkers working on the sustainability crisis have turned to indigneous views on life and the relationship between human beings and the more-than-human world.
Morales is turning out to be a heroic figure. We can only hope he is able to continue on this path for as long as possible. Keep an eye on this guy.
View the transcript or watch the segment here:
Noam Chomsky has made some of the most simple, direct comments about the election of Evo Morales as president of Bolivia. It comes down to this: there were real issues in the election, people knew what they were, people thought they mattered, people got out and voted, the elections weren't fixed. If you want to see democratic elections, you have to go to Bolivia. If you compare what we have going on here, it's rather startling. This is a great clip of President Morales on The Daily Show. Take note: in his campaign he had a real platform, and he delivered on his promises. And . . . get ready for this . . . "socialized" management of the natural gas resources of Bolivia allowed the Bolivians to make more money! Impossible. Shouldn't their society collapse? Bolivia may prove that "socialized" programs and mixed economies demand democratic processes.
Continue reading "Introduction to Aiden O'Shea's Poetry in Search of the Way" »
An Excerpt from the introduction to the forthcoming book, Postcards from Ulysses.
You can read a summary of the book by clicking HERE.
Continue reading "The Deeper Meaning of the Copernican Revolution" »
The Tango Principle is clearly illustrated in the story of Cook Ting told by Chuang-tzu:
The king's cook was cutting up an ox.
Out went a hand, down went a shoulder,
he planted a foot, he pressed with a knee,
the ox fell apart with a whisper,
the bright cleaver murmured
like a gentle breeze.
Rhythm! Timing!
Like a sacred dance,
like ancient music.
"Good work!" the king exclaimed. "Your method is faultless!"
"Method?" said the cook, laying aside his shining cleaver,
"What I follow is beyond all method.
"When I first began to cut up oxen
I would see before me the whole ox, all in one mass.
"After three years I no longer saw this mass.
I saw the distinctions.
"But now, I see nothing with the eye.
My whole being apprehends.
My senses are idle. The spirit is free
to work, without a plan, following its own intelligence
guided by the secret opening, the hidden space,
my cleaver finds its own way. I cut through no joint, chop no bone.
"A good cook needs a new chopper once a year---he CUTS.
A poor cook needs a new chopper once a month---he HACKS.
"There are spaces in the joints; the blade is thin and keen:
when this thinness finds that space, there is all the room you need!
It goes like the wind!
"True, there are sometimes tough joints. I feel them coming, I slow down,
I watch closely, hold back, barely move the blade. And whump!
The part falls away, landing like a clump of earth. Then I withdraw the blade,
I stand still and let the joy of the work sink in.
I clean the blade and put it away."
The king shouted, "This is it! My cook has shown me how to live my life!"
It is interesting that this lesson in living given by the cook contains a great emphasis on rhythm and timing, with an explicit reference to music and dance. There is also a good deal of indirect advice on leading and following. A leader who hacks his way through the dance cannot get the pieces of the dance to fall easily into place. The follower who hacks can never find the spaciousness resting in the joints of the dance. Neither will receive the blessings that come when the most refined joys of the dance sink deeply into one’s marrow.
The most surprising coincidence between these two stories revealed itself in a workshop I took some time ago with Susana Miller, a well known teacher of Argentine Tango. In the middle of the workshop, with no prior reference to anything even vaguely Taoist, she told a story that seamlessly fit with a point she was trying to make. She said, “One time a great dancer said to me, ‘Miller, take a look at my shoes.’ And I said, ‘Yes, what about them?’ ‘How old do you think they are?’ I looked at them, and they looked very new. So I said, ‘I don’t know, maybe a couple of months.’ He said, ‘Try a couple of years!’” The best dancers have steps that are balanced and grounded, and yet so light you think they must be angels. They move in their shoes the way Cook Ting moved with his cleaver. They cut right through the flesh and bone of tango without becoming dull. Some dancers never get past the surface, even though their shoes wear out with their efforts.(1)
Chuang-tzu wanted to tell us vitalizing things, secrets about how to live passionately and peacefully. He chose some fabulous metaphors to do so: butterflies, cooks, fish, and birds dance their way through his poetic prose. Since Chuang-tzu’s day we have learned a thing or two about how to make such metaphors come to life. When you read about Cook Ting, you don’t get much insight into the psychological and physiological requirements for doing what he does. By what means does this mysterious cook operate? How could one adapt it to the boardroom or the classroom, to the artist’s studio or the yoga studio? How indeed can we even adapt it to our own kitchen?
The Alexander Technique offers pragmatic answers to these questions. From the Alexander Technique we get the Tango Principle itself: it’s not what you do, it’s the way that you do it. Cook Ting would agree. To DO tango is to HACK. Only when we follow non-doing will we step like angels. The Technique then goes further by showing us the psychological and physiological skills required for living and dancing like Cook Ting. We only succeed in Tango and in life because of these skills. Even when we hack, the hacking has tiny elements of these fundamental skills. They are so powerful that they still get the job done. The problem is that our knife gets dull and the work lacks beauty for us and for those watching. In tango and in life, we are the knife and we are the work. Why wear ourselves to dullness? Why not allow our experience to be beautiful?
Cook Ting's advice on dealing with tough joints is particularly important in tango and in life. Any resistance we encounter in life tempts us to DO, to hack, to tense, to react, to become fearful. The means disappear in our anxiety for the ends, the goal, the idea, the thing we desire. Cook Ting reminds us that non-dong is not for special occasions. It is the only way anything ever happens. So when we encounter resistance, we need to slow down. We know we will try to DO, but this doing will only interfere. We will succeed only in spite of the doing. But if we slow down, we will have more beauty, peace, and joy in the movement.
When a follower begins to hesitate, don’t hack. When you start to go off balance, don’t hack. When you are trying to learn a new step, don’t hack. Slow down. There is plenty of space. You can breathe. You can let the blade of mindfulness slip effortlessly through this joint. The dance will always dance itself if you let it.
Something wonderful about the process is that what counts as a tough joint will change over time. The joint that slows you today will seem like nothing tomorrow. Your leading or your following becomes more powerful because you allow more and more non-doing to enter it. And the same is true in daily life. What used to set you off now seems a trifle. You can deal with this stimulus and that stimulus without the same of stress, tension, reaction, and fear. More and more, life becomes “like a sacred dance, like ancient music.”
Note:
1. It is important to consider the implications for sustainability. What does it mean on a wider scale when our tango walk stops grating against the world? It means we can walk in this world without leaving a trace, with steps that touch the earth so intimately that we make everything more real.
Humanity's footsteps have such a mindless quality that the shoes of our existence have worn thin. Our feet are blistered, we stagger and stumble. Yet, we walk so mindlessly we fail to notice, or we notice a little but manage to ignore the scale of the problem. If we could truly begin to follow Cook Ting's advice in our walk, we could make steps toward a more sustainable world. We can look at any situation and ask how heavy our steps have fallen there. What has our ego kicked and trampled? Where have we tripped? What is the quality of our walk right now? Can we just LET?
By turning our attention to our steps at every moment, we practice tango in the most profound way. Good dancing tranlsates into sustainable living, and sustainable living translates into good dancing. To live well is just to dance our lives with the lightest, most connected steps. A sustainable future depends on our practice of tango.
You can read about the idea of not leaving a trace in many books on Zen. Chuang-tzu gets at it from another angle by discussing what it means to be hidden in the universe. I also like the way the idea appears in Native American spiritual traditions. The matter is put plainly in the song "Mother Earth" by Arvel Bird & One Nation. They were nominated for "Best Song Single" in the 2007 Native American Music Awards. You can hear the song (and cast your vote for your favorites) on the NAMA voting site or go to the band's website.
Post Script:
I recently came across the following anecdote from Joan Halifax Roshi (you can find it in One Bird One Stone: 108 American Zen Stories by Sean Murphy):
"One day when I was walking down a canyon path, I realized I was making a literal impression upon the Earth. I stopped and turned around to look at my footprints and they were even and smooth, a kind of script in the dust. That was on Thursaday. On Friday, I hurried to the office on the central part of the land and halfway there I caught myself, stopped and turned around to look at my tracks. There was a different message on the Earth. It was then that I saw how completely each step that we take is a message of alienation or awareness to Earth."
Nickolas Knightly is a certified teacher of the Alexander Technique offering private and group lessons, workshops, and lectures on the Technique. He specializes in working with artists, dancers, spiritual practitioners, NGO's, and sustainable businesses. He is based in the San Francisco Bay Area. Click HERE to go to the main website for more information.