Ultimately Alone

The only journey is the one within
                          Ranier Maria Rilke

Alone

To be alone...

To be able to be alone

One of the more popular television shows in the genre of "survival" is simply called "Alone."  10 skilled survivalists are dropped off miles apart in a remote region of the world.  From Canada to Patagonia, they must survive using only their skills and a few personal items.  They have clothing appropriate to the climate and sometimes a few simple items like fish hooks or a knife.  One participant actually brought down a moose with a bow and arrow.  Not a high-tech weapon, just a simple, self-made bow, and arrow.  These folks have real skills.  One of the women on the show once made herself a sauna.  She lined a shelter with found materials, built a fireplace with rocks and heated water for steam.  There was even a mossy path to the sauna that she built.  Real skills.  Sometimes contestants have made their own instruments, like an animal gut string banjo or a flute whittled from a tree branch.  Music goes with being alone so well.

The person who can stay alone the longest wins a cash prize ($250,000 or more) so that is the motivation.  These folks are mostly young, but occasionally there is a person over 50.  In the end, barring a serious injury, what gets people to tap out and end their attempt is the isolation.  

More proof positive that the ability to be alone is difficult, yet important.

Socrates said that humans were "by nature a political animal."  A strict interpretation would mean that we choose to live in governments for self-protection.  Politics, right?  But I submit it also means we choose to live in and among other people.  The implication here is that alone, we are or may be less.

There is much to savor in living alone.  A rare few choose to do so.  Most others find themselves alone and either tolerate it or spend time and energy trying to remedy that situation.

Like Rilke, the Austrian poet suggests, the task of inner solitude is a desirable goal.

In my view, a solitary living experience is not only worthwhile, but it might also even be necessary for self-knowledge.  To the young, it seems unnatural.  I recall asking a class of mine one time if anyone ever went to a movie alone.  Very few.  At the time, I did it regularly.  To them going to a movie alone meant having to go alone.  That meant there were reasons, very bad reasons probably, that they had to go alone.  The unevolved fear being alone.

     Being in nature is a great antidote to feeling alone while being alone.  You don't have to model yourself after Thoreau to experience the joy of solidarity.  Just a few hours near a river, lake, or ocean will do.  Hike up a mountain, walk an outdoor path, or, in my case go fishing.

In the end, we are all ultimately alone.  This knowledge has helped me enjoy my time with other people even more.

Shady Edge

Two things that happened yesterday converged in my mind.  I learned that there were at least 3,000 homeless people in my hometown, and I began reading the most interesting and unusual book called The Stranger in the Woods.  

The book is the story of a man who willingly pulls himself off the grid and lives hermit-like for 27 years.  Before he was discovered and subsequently arrested for burglary (he stole food and supplies from cabins and institutional camps) he had no contact with any other humans.
These two lifestyles have much in common, but their differences are what resonates even more loudly.  They both live in the margins...on the edges...until discovered.  The homeless in my area seem to be always on the move, while the hermit in the woods of Maine is able to stay put for decades.  Both are dependent on the world around them for basic necessities.
I suspect the emotional conscience of the homeless is more complex because they are visible.  They are also inhibited by their addiction to drugs, alcohol, or other substances, leaving their mental competency in doubt.
Choosing to move into a heavily wooded area and survive on raids that yield food, basic supplies, and anything else that might make tent camping more comfortable takes the ability to function without hearing another human voice.  It doesn't mean losing all contact with all things human if you can score a radio and some batteries.
Imagine keeping up with the news, but not being able to discuss any of it with anyone.  What is lost and what is gained? What does that say about human nature?

Sometimes I think that all of us imagine "living rough" at one time or another.  We might even think about where we would go if we had to spend a night out on the streets.  Which doorways, or trees, or tiny non-visible spaces seem most inviting?  Where are their heat sources or potential meals?
I actually think this is a good exercise to pursue.  I recall that some of the training for being a Vista Volunteer that I experienced years ago involved what they called "dropoff" experiences.  People would be taken to bus stations at late hours and asked to observe while spending the night there.
It certainly heightens the senses.
If it's true that most of us are only a paycheck or two from homelessness, then we'd do well to keep our eyes open.  Ironically, being on your own in the hostile environs of a major city just might lead one to the desire to be completely alone.  Certainty is at a premium in that state; choices can be simple.  Images of those living in the shadows tend to be romanticized and heavily male.  Neither are valid, I' sure.

No Weatherman Needed

Various theories of representation with regard to congressional members exist.  They essentially say that an elected representative, either Congress or Senate votes with either his/her conscience, party, or constituency.   That's logical, but in today's political climate, there seems little place for the conscience if the representative has any hope of re-election.
As the current impeachment debate slogs along, more and more members of Congress are struggling with which theory best serves them.
My bias is that an act of conscience is the preferred choice.  To me, it's much higher on the moral reasoning spectrum.  That skill seems most desireable for a lawmaker in my book.
Not so with so many in Congress today and their districts.  The country is awash with divided political opinion and most shocking is that so many are having a difficult time deciphering just what it is that they think

                     How will I know what I think until I see what I write

My advice is t do a little writing if this is such a difficult choice.  But then we have competing narratives detailing just exactly what this vote is all about.  I concede that both sides have some (albeit very few) valid points but when indisputable facts fail to create an agreement, then you know we're in trouble.  So to paraphrase a useful phrase rooted in the lore of impeachment, "what did the President do and when did he do it."

It seems like all these folks who wear the Congressional pin ought to be able to agree on what was done when.  It hasn't happened yet, I'm afraid.

Today the news cycle was sporting a new tale.  A Democrat, who was having trouble agreeing with his constituency over his aye or nay vote on impeachment has decided to become a Republican.  He fears losing re-election.  I hope the people he represents make him pay for that choice.  Not because he wants to change party, but because he refuses to grapple with his conscience.  Does this guy know what he believes and values?  How could he, fear got in the way.  Hard choices take real leadership.  The kind of leadership that a feather in the wind political seems oblivious to.

When the Trucks Roll

                 They say everything can be replaced
                 Yet every distance is not near
                 So I remember every face
                 Of every man who put me here
                                                -Bob Dylan
                                                I Shall Be Released


I'm watching much of the Impeachment hearings.  My attention wanes on occasion.  It's tedious. But then we knew that.  This time around, the division is palpable.  It is wearily all-consuming.  Both sides see the same set of facts differently.  They dispute the rules; they insult one another's intelligence, they profess outrage.  They know what they know.
But what do we see when we see them?  What gets triggered when they exercise their sense of their own power.  I see the trucks.
In carefully answering an interviewer's question about trust, with regard to one you might fear, Nobel laureate Toni Morrison once said, "when the trucks roll, I still think they will put me on the truck."
This chilling view is probably more common than we might think.  In an atmosphere of fear, we can convince ourselves that being too careful is not an option.
Those who seem to be able to rationalize many of the actions of the current President of the United States are the faces.  Some look like mild-mannered folks, some like caring mothers and wives.  Their appearance belies their intention.  We've seen this before and sadly, it is upon us again.
I see something else too.  I see the accused sitting in a courtroom, life on trial, knowing full well the verdict has been decided.  Knowing that nothing said or demonstrated in that courtroom will have any impact on the outcome of their fate.  Those scenes were repeated in our collective history time and again.  Instead of trucks rolling, lynch mobs boiled up from the red dirt of our countryside.  Forced confessions flourished.  Scars continuously ignored, the victims of injustice had no recourse but to accept the fate conjured up by the imbalance of power.

I see a child riding on a railcar.  The ground is snow-covered, The guard outside the car speaks his language.  He may even know the family.  They do not speak on this day.  What goes through their minds? What awaits at the end of this crucial day?   led both to position themselves accordingly that morning?  Wheels turn.
The railcar yields to a truck that is waiting to take one of them to their future.  They will never speak again.

Past Due

              It's OK to look back at the past, just don't stare.
                                                                  -Benjamin Dover


I've always been fascinated with the past.  From pointed questions about who my ancestors might be to regarding my history book as one of my most prized possessions, I enjoy looking and thinking about things that have happened...people who came before me.
By high school, all I ever aspired to was becoming a history teacher.  That almost happened.  The reality of public education tacked on English and Psychology to the 11 or 12 other history courses I taught in a 30 plus year career.
I read historical novels and easily as much or more non-fiction and autobiography/biography than other genres.  I am a student of the past and how it is written and recorded.
No apology needed, right?  Absolutely, but this trait has its limitations and problems.
Recently I've been fascinated by how this interest in the past has manifested itself in my life in various ways. Last month I saw an ad for a company that manufactures and sells vintage sports uniforms and shirts and caps with their logos.  So what's happening there?  I think it has to do with seeing and experiencing something that was previously thought to be gone...forever.  The realization that maybe something thought to be lost can reappear.  There is a warmth, a recognition of,  a celebration in wearing the jersey of a team that no longer exists.

 I wonder if this works the same way with people.  The old song "Have I stayed Too Long at the Fair?" raises this question.  In that tune, a woman wonders if perhaps she let the bright lights, attractions, and the attractive people get to her too much.  Then, when it's time to go home, she's left wanting more.  She's left alone with the wilting balloons and faded colors.
Relationships can be like that.  I certainly wish I'd left some alone.  But since we tend to remember the best parts rather than the tough times, there is often a temptation to mess with fate and try to repeat what can't be repeated.  Even just a friendly hello, what's new with you, how are things?  can be way too much and leave us wondering what were we thinking.