Things I think about

"I was dead for a million years
'Fore I was born and I'll be dead for a million more
After I'm gone
So I live, to give somethin'
That can live on
Like the way you hum a song when the music's gone
Like the warmth on the sand
When the sun goes down
And I'm sittin' with myself
Nobody else is around"

-Michael Franti

How do we genuinely contribute to this world, to humanity? Must you achieve fame to alter the course of human history? How do we know that the change we encourage is "good"? Am I being selfish in choosing a career path that does not directly affect lives today? As my professor said, "In paleoanthropology, no one dies if the analysis of our data proves wrong." Implied, I think, may be that no one benefits either if our conclusions end up being right. I have to believe: that there is inherent worth in knowledge, or at least worth in the quest for knowledge; that to learn for the sake of learning is not frivolous; and that in learning about our world, about the history of humanity, about our biology, about our capacity for culture, about our lives in a socioecological context, we are better able to recognize our biases as animals, as mammals, as primates, as hominins and, finally, as humans. What are the implications of belonging to each of those categories (categories that, admittedly, we made up)? How might understanding our natural propensities encourage us to be more reflective in our actions?

Understanding propensities does not mean resigning yourself to your "inherent nature", but rather recognizing our unique ability as humans to recognize our bias (our "nature") and choose a direction/action from there. As cultural beings, and beings of unique intelligence, nothing is predetermined. We always have a choice of how to act in a way that serves our fellow humans, whether in grand acts or simple daily interactions.

The Present

"If my happiness at this moment consists largely in reviewing happy memories and expectations, I am but dimly aware of this present. I shall still be dimly aware of the present when the good things that I have been expecting come to pass. For I shall have formed a habit of looking behind and ahead, making it difficult for me to attend to the here and now. If, then, my awareness of the past and future makes me less aware of the present, I must begin to wonder whether I am actually living in the real world.

After all, the future is quite meaningless and unimportant unless, sooner or later, it is going to become the present. Thus to plan for a future which is not going to become present is hardly more absurd than to plan for a future which, when it comes to me, will find me “absent,” looking fixedly over it’s shoulder instead of into its face."

-Alan Watts from "The Wisdom of Insecurity"

I have been thinking a lot about "the present" recently. More so now than for a few years (perhaps since I was in Tanzania in 2006) I am finding myself happily and easily in the present. Walking down to school, my timbuk2 bag slung across my shoulder, rain boots slopping in Londony puddles, I am so very much here....in time and space. I am not dreaming about any other time or place in which I could be or was happier. Not that there is nothing I could worry about, but I am becoming more aware that the key to the future is the present. If I am not present in the now then the future will never become what I want it to be. By being here now, I actually am investing in my future. It is like the quote I posted in the blog titled 'Priory Park.' Right actions now, lead to positive outcomes. "Right actions" are not mysterious highly rational choices, but rather the actions your heart suggests (not so delicately at times).

Very rarely is anything, any decision, as complex as we believe it to be, if we just listen to what our hearts tell us. Stresses arise when our heart, mind and actions are not aligned. The closer we can bring these elements to alignment, the less stress we feel; we near equilibrium. I have found (am finding?) that if I base my actions on my heart, my mind will catch up. Past experience and observation, though, have revealed to me that the same is not true of the mind. That is, if I base my actions on my mind, my heart will not easily comply if it did not in the first place agree. The more open I am to hearing my heart's voice, feeling its pull, the more often I listen to its direction, the more confident I become in believing what it tells me. It is like any sense, or skill, the more you use it the better it becomes. The more I listen, the more I hear.

Common Ancestors

evolution: changes in gene frequencies in a population over time

how unfrightening.

New Unity

"This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each had been sent
as a guide from beyond."
-Rumi

In honor of Granny Pats and also in honor of my own spiritual exploration, I attended a Unitarian church service this Sunday morning at New-Unity Unitarian Universalist Church. For so long I have been so anti-spirituality. I confused being non-christian with being unspiritual. In reality, I am spiritual, I do believe that everything is one, in love, in "something more" (whatever the hell that means). I do not, however, believe necessarily in god of the bible or that Jesus is his son, or in Allah, or Shiva etc....Those spiritual frameworks do not appeal to my sense of what is right or true. I just can't buy it.

In the realm of the unknown, I would prefer not to try to know or pretend to know, but rather be a grateful contributor to whatever it is that connects us as one. I would rather live each day in awe of the world around us. That said, I am a scientist and I wholly believe that some things are inherently knowable and we cannot plug every hole of the unknown with god. That, I believe, is an insult to our reason. It has taken me a long time to feel equal appreciation for both the knowable and the unknowable (very different distinction from the known and unknown). The struggle is still in me, between my reason and my ever more vocal heart, but more and more my reason acknowledges that true value lies in the recognition of the equal value in the knowable (the reasonable) and the unknowable.

As the unknowable is, just that, not able to be known, I will not spend time pretending to know what it is by prescribing to the spirituality put forth in any one text. Rather I will appeal to the collective consciousness of our specie, to the knowledge of our ancestors who are true veterans of this life, the philosophies of our contemporaries for what will they be someday but ancestors. I am left feeling that the "right" action is simply to ground myself in the unknown and open myself to the awe (and comfort) found in the resignation of reason.

So with all this in my mind and heart, today I traveled down to Angel, London for my first voluntary church visit....ever. The minister, Andy, greeted me at the gate with another young man, Lee. Andy is a Bostontonian who studied biology at MIT and worked in biotechnology for 20 years before realizing that the life he was living was not one that he would want to remember on his death bed. With that realization and a bunch of faith, he quit his job and began training to be a Unitarian minister. He led me into the church, which itself was very simple. A large open room with several skylights, folding chairs and a podium served as the space for our service. Several community members introduced themselves and welcomed me before the service began. With 75 members, the church is large by England's standards where only 5% of citizens partake in any form of religious activity.

Here in London people are celebrating Harvest (think Thanksgiving) so the service centered around gratitude. After Andy's sermon, we each went in front of the congregation lit a candle, said what we were thankful for and took a handful of rice. We sat then and each said aloud, at once, one thing we are thankful for for each grain of rice in our hands. Our voices melded together into a jumbled murmured prayer of gratitude. Because it is Harvest, we joined together for a potluck following the service. There I talked extensively with Andy, Jamie (another first timer who also happens to be from Crouch End), and a Dutch woman whose name I didn't catch. We had an amazing discussion about culture, food, and bridging the gap between reason and spirituality.

I am excited to get more involved with the community. Along with the Sunday services they host weekly meditations, yoga classes, and service opportunities.