29 August 2020

Listened to another YouTube video of Yuval Noah Harari, This one was a lecture at Google in 2015 and is about “new religions of the 21st century.” I have read only the first of his books, and listened to various interviews. He lives not far from here, practices vipassana meditation, is strictly vegan, firmly on the left, anti-nationalist, and deeply influenced by Buddhism. The video is chiefly about the increasing power of the algorithm in undermining our currently dominant religion, which, as he says, is humanistic liberalism.

I was thinking his talk about the “new religions of the 21st” century would be about the discovery of our interdependence with nature and of the impossibility that the human race will survive the coming centuries while maintaining its existing speciesism.. At a point in the talk he asks a rhetorical question about the main scientific discovery of the 20th century? (the response: there are so many of them that it is hard to say), and then what was the main discovery in the same period from the faith religions (“the religions that believe in God”). The response he gives is that it is hard to decide, because we can’t think of any. But I don’t think that’s strictly true. There is a discovery or re-discovery, of one of them core teachings of all religions, of altruism and the need to overcome our inherent egoism for the good of the whole. It isn’t exclusively the domain of religion, and the dominant religions have themselves contradicted this message to disastrous effect. Yet the belief, or understanding, that there is a deep connection, or even a fundamental unity, between our own existence and consciousness and that of the universe, is both at the heart of religion, and is the key message of our times. “Key” because it is key to our survival as a species. Like the power of the algorithm, this understanding challenges humanistic liberalism and individualism, as Harari defines it. But unlike our new faith in algorithms to address the issues of our times, the earlier message that we can, and need to, transcend our egoism is at the heart of the human condition. It predates humanistic liberalism by tens of thousands of years and can be felt when viewing the art of the first humans on cave walls. And it will supersede our present stage of evolution, if we are to survive at all. It’s a truth with which we have grappled from the beginning, but which rises to paramount importance in an era when we have the power to destroy both our species and the delicate symmetries that make all of life on earth possible. Eventually logic may lead us to the same conclusion. Indeed, we may already have enough scientific knowledge to emphatically confirm it. But if we don’t grasp, at a deep level, and quickly, that in order to survive we must stop destroying the biosphere for selfish reasons, it won’t be very helpful if this understanding remains confined to the rational level. Understanding has always been a matter more for the heart than for the intellect.

28 August 2020

Listened to one of Yuval Noah Harari’s interviews again. This one was about the likelihood that careers and professions would likely be changing every few years, and that we would constantly need to reinvent ourselves. As a result, he suggested that the most important things to learn now are mental and emotional stability and flexibility.

In the 1970s Alvin Toffler, author of Future Shock, probably inhabited a similar space. The themes about which they talk are similar, though Toffler was politically more on the right.

I’m not scared about the future, because after the age of around 50, as Haruki Murakami says somewhere in one of his books, we are all living on borrowed time. Most people were traditionally dead by that age. Even today, in many large countries, the average lifespan is less than 70. And, on the other hand, we are never really born and don’t actually die. The pandemic is the most significant and least predicted event that has shaken us recently. I was a bit sorry to have to come home from India earlier than expected, but even if I don’t manage to take much advantage of my new five year visa, it won’t matter to me that much, as I’m also happy to stay home. Lately, it’s been fun working on my home server and setting up Hubzilla. A pleasant distraction.

More of a worry is whether my children and grand children will be ready for the huge changes ahead of them. Why do people still risk bringing children into the world, while simultaneously undermining their future? We’re a strange species. My advice to everyone is to be as self-sufficient as possible and far away from the mainstream; not to believe the pernicious myths and existential fears that nations try to instill in us, or the lies and false promises of ideologies, religions and big corporations. It is better to live the model we would like to see for the world than to spend our time campaigning for things that may never happen. And of course, we need to be open to tweaking that model, according to the constantly changing conditions.

26 August, 2020

Z. came in the morning to do some work around the house. We have known him for 38 years, when he and we were in our 20s. He comes from the nearby Palestinian village of Beit Sira, about 10 minutes from here – or used to be, before they put up the separation barrier. It used to be much easier to visit him. Now, rather than taking him home, we have to drop him at the village gate, along apartheid road 443, under the army watchtower. Many workers used to come in from Beit Sira; including Z’s brothers and sons; but now I think it’s only Z. There are a few building laborers from nearby Beit Liqya. Right now, due to the virus, there’s kind of a reverse closure. Palestinian workers who come in have to stay, rather than go home every day. On the other hand, there are holes in the fence. According to Z, the places are well known by the Israeli army, who do not intervene, and sometimes whole busloads of people come through. The rules regarding the occupation have never been set in stone – a lot depends on who is the soldier on duty, or the mood of the times.

The virus is affecting some parts of the West Bank more seriously than others. It started in the south, but worked its way north. Z. says that two people died of it recently in Beit Liqya; a 45 year old woman with pre-existing health conditions, and a 72 year old man who was also not so well. He knew both of them.

Anyway, Z. replaced 3 new sewage pipe covers with cheap but good ones from El Bireh. He fixed the cobble-stone exterior wall facings that he originally built for us, about twenty five years, ago. He fixed an electrical problem under our new patio pergola, and closed off some unused vents for the A/C. (We used to have a central A/C but nowadays room units are preferred for energy saving.) he can do more or less anything, and I’ve always been a poor and lazy handyman.

SPIP

I ‘m deciding between two projects that I need to give attention to: our Civi-CRM site and a couple of things I need to do for our website on SPIP. Civi-CRM is set up on our WordPress site, but I neglected it for a year or so, so something broke. It then required re installation and a PHP update. That too didn’t go smoothly on hostgator, and need their support crew’s intervention. Now I have to try to fix a bunch of things in order not to lose the data that is already in. I didn’t manage to get any of the staff to actually use Civi-CRM, but now they are asking for it.

The other work I need to do is in SPIP. That’s a French CMS. When I began with it, somewhere in the early 2000s, it seemed to be the best CMS for multilingual content, including Right-to-Left languages. So I adopted SPIP. Now it would be very difficult to move thousands of articles to an easier CMS.. So I continue to use SPIP. It does have some advantages. I find it easier than WordPress for adding posts/ pages., and SPIP imposes a hierarchical structure that is great for our usage. The main drawback is the difficulty in when it comes to design changes. In WordPress you can just drop in a new theme (I know it isn’t always quite so simple). In SPIP, you need to re-create all the templates by hand, and also know SPIP’s unique adaptations of PHP. And of course, SPIP cannot compete with WordPress on the number of available plugins.

Hubzilla again; this time from a home server

That’s it; after a huge effort, I’ve got Hubzilla working from home. Not everything works properly yet, and I will have to try to iron out the bugs. I spent the largest amount of time trying to set up msmtp; because otherwise it was impossible to send an email verification and create a channel. But nothing budged. Eventually I saw that in the configuration files it is possible to disable email verification.

As a result of the account registration mix up, I ended up creating a first account that was not my admin account.

UPDATE: I now see from the help files that this can be updated manually by going into the database; it’s the only way to correct that problem. Not having an admin user is probably the cause of several other problems that I may be able to fix once I am the administrator.

UPDATE: Sorted

Extraordinary Times

We are living in an extraordinary time in which the viability of our institutions, the myths of society, and the true worth of leaders, is severely tested. Some leaders, like Donald Trump, are so completely confounded by the challenges that whatever they do or do not do places them in a situation of appearing ridiculous. Others, like Angela Merkle, do not need to be very vocal, since they sit atop functional systems that just work, or at least work better.

Countries like Sweden are being shown that some of the assumptions about themselves as societies are poor companions when they are confronted by a new kind of threat. They do not know how to adapt to it.

The virus managed to out-wait Israel. It is waging a war of attrition against a society that prides itself on being able to pull together in order to fight massive, but short term existential crises. Some of the behaviours that aid it in other circumstances fail it in this kind of crisis.

The pandemic is helping societies learn about themselves and their resilience in times of adversity.

June 30, 2020

Flight to Tel Aviv: I have been reading Sapiens, and reached almost the of the book now. I have just finished reading his discussion of happiness; in which he writes particularly of the Buddhist understanding of the concept. It is close to the one I find in Yoga philosophy, though I would phrase it differently. I think that happiness is the state normally found when consciousness rests in the present moment and is not in a condition of resistance to it. In other words, the mind is at peace. In a moment that we are caught off-guard by beauty, such as when one opens the curtains to behold a golden sunrise, the mind is “enraptured”, if only for a moment, perhaps. Something comes between our thoughts of the past, our memories, regrets; and our plans hopes and desires for the future, so that we know peace, for a fleeting moment.

Similarly, when we satisfy a desire or fulfill a dream, we touch on our peace by being focused on the pleasure, rather than thinking of the past or the future. Conversely, if the present moment is full of pain, and we resist the pain, we amplify it. But if, on the other hand, we are able to feel pain but also accept it, then we can still be at peace. Buddhists would say that we should simply observe the comings and goings of painful and pleasurable thoughts. The issue I have with this is that it then becomes a mental process, and is based on the division of subject and object. But here there is a problem. Except through an analytical process, it is not possible to achieve true equanimity while there is this rational discrimination.

July 1, 2020

Well, it is subtle. I’m not sure that the Buddhist attitude is so different. There is a slight difference in attitude between saying that the self (or anything) is “empty of a separate existence” and saying that “the (individual) self (atman) is the self of everything (brahman)”. My axe to grind is that our observation is flawed, because it fails to take into account that there is a substratum in which the existence of one “thing” is the existence of the whole, so that the objects or separate selves are only superficially separate. And so our observation of the universe is flawed at the most fundamental level: it does not take into account the most important factor. So even Sapiens, as a book, though it speaks of our speciesism and our failure to take into account the environmental concerns, does not see as a basic truth that it is simply impossible not to take into account the connection between the self and the other.

It is not exactly that the self (me) and the table are “connected” or (heaven forbid) one and the same, but that we share a common basis, a common existence, that gives “life” to both of us. The table is “illusory”, so long as I do not take into account the observational fallacy and the underlying common existence; because otherwise what I see is only part of the truth, and part of the truth equals a total lie. Not practically, because I am in fact using the table in order to rest this notebook on and write these words, but philosophically, existentially. Existentially, it changes everything: my stance, my attitute, but also, something much more fundamental and beyond our subjectivity. It is the way in which the universe functions. A universe of separate objects would never actually work, could not exist.

Harari speaks, for example, of the absence of an intelligent designer.He speaks of a lack of purpose behind the universe. This is inaccurate. There is no designer who stands outside of it – that’s true, but there is, absolutely, intelligence and good design in the universe. The universe is a manifestation of intelligence. A human who tries to design a better variety of corn, or an automobile, will fail miserably if he is unable to take into account the natural “laws” of physics, chemistry, or biology, which are his palette. And, anyway, to the extent that he fails to take into account the full environmental impact of his “creation”, he will cast a fly in the ointment, a spanner in the works, of the total design.

Harari is right that environmental “destruction” is a misnomer. It is actually “change”, but, in so far as this species is concerned, destruction of the biosphere will be the end of the road. Some other species may come along, perhaps, to take our place, and the place of countless other species that we have made extinct. Or not. The real universe, that which exists behind this one, is like a child’s magnetic toy that constantly recombines in new ways. You knock down the cathedral you have so carefully constructed, and the pieces recombine to make a spaceship. Nothing is destroyed, but conditions are changed. Does it matter? It matters greatly to homo sapiens. The species can only function within a certain habitat.

Our failure is in not understanding how to coexist within our habitat in a sustainable way. We don’t have to worry about the universe not being able to put right any mistakes that we make. It will, but not necessarily in a way that is favourable to our species. Since, despite our bluster and self-importance, the universe will go on anyway without us. Not entirely without us, because we will continue. Just not in a form that is recognisable to us.

The question is whether or not our progress towards self-destruction (or change) is inevitable? It may be inevitable according to our nature as human beings. But Harari points out that civilization is cultural. The culture can be changed. The energies that drive us can be harnessed in completely different ways. We can change the way in which we live on the planet if we want to, so the apocalpyse is not inevitable.

June 27

Finishing up my time here in the US. I think I will miss the quietude of being at home alone, and will not enjoy the bustle of being in a full household again. Coronavirus cases are sky-rocketing in Israel again, so I won’t want to go out even after the period of home-isolation. I think I just want to live the rest of my life in quiet places; Neve Shalom or Auroville. There isn’t much on offer outside of solitude. It’s true that I need to keep my body more active, so that it doesn’t grow weak and inflexible, but there are solutions for that.

I’m also finishing Sapiens, which is consistantly interesting.

Yesterday I spent the afternoon with Andrew, and in the evening he spoke extensively about our parents and opened up about his grief […]

I’m coming to understand how much we are not just free actors but are also products of what we ingest. In order to be free, we need to be able to break free of our addictions. They are deadly, or deadening. Culture, too, is a word that carries more meaning that that to which we ascribe to it. My parents were terribly trapped by their culture. My mother, particularly, had all the characteristics of a person who is continually trying to escape humble origins. She had internalized Britain’s caste system, grown up in poor conditions, not received a complete education, and spent the rest of her life trying to live like role models who were probably from the film world, or at least a “well-to-do” person. Yet she felt completely insecure, could never settle in a place happily. Both my parents tried to escape their origins and yet constantly harked back to them, in a kind of love-hate relationship.

In some ways, I perhaps acquired some of the same traits, in that I too feel that I don’t belong in the country-mentality of the place where I live. Yet with me, it is not that I secretly long to be in a “home country” because I don’t really have one. I’m pretty much my own person – no doubt a product of various conditioning, like everyone, but my national identity is cosmopolitan I don’t feel that I belong to a certain nature or place of origin. My attitude is also “exclusive”, since I feel critical of the mainstream secular culture from a “spiritual” point of view, and critical of religions and cults from a secular point of view. I don’t really want much to do wiht the world.

Popular culture of our era is a turn-off. I tried watching another American TV series on Netflix but decided again that it was too much for me – too extreme, too disgusting, I suppose. There’s a certain I don’t know what about our contemporary culture. Perhaps the producers of fiction make too many assumptions about what readers or viewers will like. The best way to avoid nasty surprises is just not to consume popular culture. Yogis always advise against it anyway. This is something that I already know, so I should just internalize it.

[…]

I hear trains only at night, when it’s quiet, though the railroad seems to be quite near. The terrain here is flat, so there is no sound from the nearby busy main road as such, as in Neve Shalom. But sounds there are , certainly, more as a distant rumble; sometimes of planes. Sitting outside with Andrew a coupled of nights ago, he embarked on a sort of running commentary of the varioius sounds he could hear; about 70% of which were unheard by me, yet he showed his skill in being able to identify them; the kind of engine belonging to the kind of place, etc.

[…]

Registering auditory or visual impressions in this way is not what I was referring to when I wrote that we need to bring the full physical and historical context into our awareness in order that the consciousness of the moment will achieve depth. But it is the opposite of Arjuna’s “I only see the bird”. I suppose it’s a matter of attitude, of appreciation and empathy. Each passing train, plane, June bug or fox is also Narayanaya. We are in this cosmos together and the Lord is in each of us.

Dealing with others

I knew two persons in the Sivananda Centers, perhaps more, who related to others quite differently to most people I have known.

They related to other human beings with an unusual manner of superiority. They were aware that they were wiser than others, because they were more practiced and had attainments on the spiritual path. In the case of Swami S., this may have been delusional. In the case of Swami B., there was greater surety, perhaps due to his age; there was also more honesty, and even a kind of humility. His attitude also towards Swami S. was one of confident superiority. Swami B. had the assurance, and the feeling of responsibility that goes with being a teacher; specifically, a spiritual teacher.

I have always admired such confidence, but at no stage have had any inclination to emulate it.

There are other kinds of superiority that humans adopt; usually from privilege of some form. The attitude of spiritual superiority is different, though it can also be accompanied by the other kind, due to a person’s background. Many teachers happen to be Brahmins, upper class, academically qualified, etc.

And there is that other kind of superiority that manifests itself from not wanting anything that the world has to offer, and similarly being indifferent towards the consequences of one’s actions. There is the famous example of Diogenes and his meeting with Alexander. (On being asked by the emperor if there was anything that he might do for him, Diogenes hesitated and said there was indeed one thing, that Alexander would move a little to the side, so as not to deprive him of the warmth of the sun’s rays.) And there is the story of the martyrdom of Sarmad, who could not recite the full kalima even to save his own life.

If there is any kind of confident superiority that I would aspire to, it is the latter kind, since it is the cultivation of a kind of confidence that becomes unshakeable, making one indifferent towards whatever the world can throw. It is also the most attainable; it does not depend upon any material worth, learning, or any other form of privilege. It requires only that one remains confident of the way, come what may. It depends upon not contending, not promoting oneself; treating everyone with respect and no one with any special respect on account of position, influence or status. One can keep one’s own council and act with equanimity in the face of praise and blame, favorable circumstances or adversity.

All this is Vasudeva.

June 24, 2020

I was reading in the Guardian a story about failed art restorations; a statue of the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus, in which the infant was restored to a kind of monkey; a similar painting of Christ in which he comes out looking like a plump gremlin; and finally a tower in Istanbul that, according to social media, resembles a giant Sponge Bob. I actually don’t know about the character of Sponge Bob, but this had me doubling over in laughter anyway.

It is hard to know what triggers laughter, but it normally leaves its influence for some time. The world seems like a less serious place for awhile, and one is convinced that this too is the nature of reality, or a legitimate aspect of it.

Then I went back to reading Yuval Noah Harari, in the chapter that he mentions that anaesthetics were discovered only in the mid 19th century, and that battle wounds to limbs were normally treated by amputation, in order to prevent the onset of gangrene. The part was simply lopped or sawed off, while four soldiers held the patient down. The majority of people died by age 25 – 40, if they managed to survive childbirth or their first year.

It is interesting, the question of suffering, and pain. In such a world of pain, physical and emotional, Buddha came along and said that suffering results from craving or desire. I wonder that people had time to suffer from desire, when they were so busy burying their dead children, or themselves suffering from horrible incurable diseases. It seems almost a luxury to be worried about something beyond the existential problems that they already had, and one can believe that someone born into such a world would learn to be resilient almost as a matter of course. Was it because Buddha was born a prince that he considered the problem of suffering as he did? – today it seems almost modern. We are shielded from pain, have solutions to diseases, live long lives, don’t have to worry much about hunger; and yet we continue to suffer. It seems as if the Buddha is speaking directly to our modern problem, in our world of comparative luxury. And yet, as a religion, Buddhism took hold, and swept through Asia, so it evidently did speak to the people who lived 2,500 years ago. It means that though people did face so much pain, and even saw it as inevitable, it was still hard for them to accept it. They still grieved their loved ones as we do and hankered for a better life; they still found it difficult to live in the moment without dwelling on the future or the past. And evidently this was true both for princes and for paupers.