Philosophy

Inception

Funny enough, it’s been 11 years since The Matrix was released, first asking the masses “what is reality?” The answer, at least according to the Wachowskis Bros, is that reality is a ruined world conquered by robots.

Enter: Inception, the new film from Christopher Nolan.

Like many, I’ve been a fan of his work since Memento, and was eager to see his latest return to the mind-bending genre. Rather than offer a general review, I’ll leave that to the other bloggers and The New York Times. Instead, I’ll share relevant thoughts about the film’s major theme.

“At the heart of the movie is the notion that an idea is indeed the most resilient and powerful parasite. A trace of it will always be there in your mind…somewhere. ” – Christopher Nolan

Dom Cobb, the film’s protagonist, is the best “extractor” there is – he has the ability to steal ideas from other people’s subconscious. But aside from corporate espionage, we also learn he spent much time with his wife in their own deep subconscious realms – co-creating an artificial reality.

The power of creation is a gift. We do it every day, whether we’re aware of it or not.

Dom and his wife spin their own fantasy world, filled with their own imagination and memories. Unfortunately, the nature of fantasy is that it isn’t real. Dom realizes this, and attempts to wake up from the dream. His wife chooses to remain lost, forcing him to take more drastic measures.

Don’t worry, I won’t offer any spoilers. But I do believe this potent love story is the heart of Inception.

Whereas The Matrix asked “what is reality?” this film asks “what is meaningful?” In their dream world, Dom and his wife were able to create anything they desired – but ultimately, it’s a false reality. And it’s impossible to create meaning in a meaningless world.

You might assert that the “real” world is just as meaningless; therefore the false reality is just as valid. In response, I can only offer: if you can’t find magic in the real world, you’re not looking hard enough.

Rationality vs Intuition


A decomposing bird carcass, filled with plastic pollution on Midway Island. Photo: Chris Jordan

In 2008, worldwide consumption of bottled water surpassed 52 billion gallons. 86% of these bottles will not be recycled, but will rest in a landfill.

Should you care?

Rationally, there’s no reason to care. The bottles will be buried and mostly out of sight. Besides, with the human population exploding, and the developing world hungry to consume as much as the rest of us, humanity is doomed anyway.

In my recent interview with Charles Eisenstein, he shares much the same conclusion:

It is quite irrational to believe things will ever be much better than they are today. When you really study the situation the world is in, you realize that it is going to take a miracle, lots of miracles, so save us. The situation is quite hopeless, from a rational standpoint.

On the surface, that’s pretty depressing – and it’s fairly easy to give up and decide to carry on with “business as usual.”

But every so often, when we catch moments of stillness, when we relax the cold logic of rationality, we touch upon the beauty of intuition.

It’s intuition that grips our hearts when we view images like the one above, revealing the brutal effects of plastic pollution on wildlife. There’s something about it that feels… wrong.

It is the same feeling that demands we phrase the Gulf “oil spill” for what it truly is. As Naomi Klein writes:

The hole at the bottom of the ocean is more than an engineering accident or a broken machine. It is a violent wound in a living organism; that it is part of us.

It is the feeling that we are more intimately connected than we’ve been led to believe. Eisenstein describes this connection:

I think we know in our hearts that we have the power to create a beautiful world. It will only happen, though, if we listen to our heart’s knowing enough to actually carry out the actions necessary.

We are called to live according to what our hearts know. That is the only sure guide. That is also a true revolution.

The mental calculations we call ethics, minimizing your carbon footprint, etc., none of those are a sure guide. Like, should I fly to California to co-create a transformational event? Well, it burns a lot of jet fuel. How can I possibly add up all the costs and benefits? It is impossible.

When we try to choose from the head, we get into a maze of indecision, and even when we do choose we have no certainty and no courage. So now it is time to listen to our heart knowing.

The Trance

“For three hundred fifty years, people in the Western world have convinced themselves that they live in a bleak world of dead matter spinning in empty space, when the real universe all around them is aflame with magic and power and infinite life. We need to wake up from the trance of scientific materialism and embrace …the dancing powers that surround us at every moment.” — John Michael Greer

Conflict

I type this from a tiny home in the Boquete hills, within the rolling jungles of Panama. I type and the rain continues to fall outside.

One of the defining beliefs about the human story is that of conflict. If you’re ever in doubt, watch any mainstream film, or read any fictional book. Humans thrive on the emotion, passion, anger, fear, and courage of conflict. Its seems written into our DNA.

We look out at the world and we see conflict. Nation against nation. People against people, struggling to horde dwindling resources amid a changing climate. Even in nature, we look and find conflict: survival of the fittest. Only the strong survive.

The silver lining is that through conflict, we find wisdom. Therefore, the conflict was worth it. Necessary even. Conflict is a means to an end.

But what if the truth was different? What if wisdom actually came from release?

In the 1999 film, American Beauty, Lester Burnham is transformed from mild-mannered suburbanite to pot smoking, burger flipping, super hero, finally in control of his own destiny once again.

He finds inspiration (and escape) in the teenage beauty of Angela Heyes. She becomes his muse and desired mistress. Lester challenges himself to win her over, and the conflict is set.

Throughout the film, he lusts after her, in dreams and reality. His attachment is clear.

Yet, it’s not until the end of the film, when he finally undresses her, and the moment he desired for so long is offered. She reveals it’s her first time: she’s a virgin. And suddenly, Lester realizes she is no longer his mysterious muse… she is a scared child.

His reaction isn’t anger, or disillusionment. In fact, it’s release.

He let’s go of his attachment to what she represents: his own inner fulfillment. He let’s go of his resentment towards his cheating wife, he let’s go of his attachment to things and the trappings of consumerism.

He let’s go of it all, and finds peace.

His last words before the film fades out, as the camera pans over the rooftops of suburbia:

“I guess I could be really pissed off about what happened to me…but it’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst…and then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain.

And I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life.”

The Truth About Human Nature?

Jeremy Rifkin investigates the evolution of empathy and the ways that it has shaped our society. (Plus, it has some great sketching)

The one part of the video that I find problematic is the view that hunter-gatherer life was only based on blood ties. It ignores the likely reality that humans viewed themselves as part of the great cosmology of life – hence were connected to more than other humans.

This gives further evidence that our current view of human nature, one laced with greed, conflict, and war, is in fact not our true nature.

There Is No Other

In my last post, I wrote about the problem with rampant consumption. Particularly, how all we appear to know is how to feed the “Machine.”

It’s tempting to describe the Machine as familiar objects of scorn: big corporations, white men, society, the Illuminati, etc… but when you do that, you’re easily laughed off by the mainstream.

It’s become the ultimate cliche… “evil corporations” hell bent on making as much money as possible, staffed by fat-cat rich folk, always eager to trod on the lower classes.

That’s too simplistic, people say. Society is much more complex than that.

And it’s true: there are many reasons we (humanity) find ourselves in this predicament. Rampant war, dwindling resources, and climate change.

But when you ask where terrorists come from, they’ll give you a simple answer. “They’re extremist radicals, hell-bent on ending the Western way of life. They hate our freedom!”

How is it that one simple answer is more acceptable then the other?

In the wake of the Moscow bombings, President Dmitry Medvedev urged “harsher measures” to crack down on terrorism.

And yet, the bombing itself appears at least partially motivated by the killing of innocent civilians by government forces a few weeks earlier.

Then, four garlic pickers died along with 18 suspected Islamic militants in a three-day shootout in the mountainous forests that straddle two other North Caucasus provinces, Ingushetia and Chechnya.

The Memorial rights group on Saturday said the four were villagers caught in the crossfire and then dragged away and executed while gathering the wild shoots to sell at local markets.

“That shooting was just lunacy,” said Alexander Cherkasov, a Memorial spokesman. “And that lunacy was used to justify terrorism.”

Seems like a complex issue, and yet… also very simple: violence always creates more violence.

But why do we continue to get this simple equation wrong again and again? Bhikkhu Bodhi, an American Buddhist, identifies the problem lies with our understanding of peace.

“We think that peace means the absence of conflict; thus we try to gain peace by subduing our opponents and by bullying our environment to serve our desires, unaware that this process is ultimately self-destructive.”

I believe it’s also what Haruki Murakami meant when he said he’s “always on the side of the egg.”

No matter the side you identify with: the Right or the Left, the activists or the corporations, the fringe or the mainstream; it’s no longer about creating an enemy. Having an “other” different from you is a symptom of dualistic thinking that has created untold misery for millions.

As Ralph Waldo Trine writes in “In Tune With The Infinite“:

“The truly wise man or woman will recognize no one as an enemy.”

A Modest Goal

Muir Park
Photo: Muir park, San Fran

Our goals in the practice of non-attainment may be quite modest – to be present in each moment’s sensation, perception, feeling, thought. We stop looking for some other moment.

It is wonderful to explore and continue turning the question of “who am I?” or “what is this life?” so that we are simply open to what it means to be alive – to be in a body.

And if we really don’t know, which we don’t, then the searching, the wandering, the questioning, the never-arriving, is a wonderfully liberating way to live.

- Katherine Thanas

The Wind or the Sun?

clou
Photo: akakumo

In 2004, I learned our society was in serious trouble. I’d wandered onto Life After the Oil Crash, which aptly opens with the line:

Civilization as we know it is coming to an end soon.

The site chronicles peak oil and the ensuing economic downfall that will have us all in mud huts, throwing rocks at each other before we know it.

My first reaction was disbelief. I was in shock…how could the world I know suddenly end? It wasn’t possible. As I read deeper into the site, the possibility became less far-fetched. My second reaction was despair, with a healthy dose of denial. I wanted to keep my lifestyle. I didn’t want to change.

Eventually, I became angry. How could humanity be so stupid? Which is another way of saying, why am I the only intelligent being on this planet?

I wanted other people to know how stupid they were. I wanted to shake people on the streets, send them damning articles of their gross consumption, and try to wake these sheep up from their slumber.

But a funny thing happened.

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