Eve's Utopia

lyrics and song

Katye — Fri, 18 Feb 2011 01:15:48 +0000

Recently, I have gotten into listening to quite a bit of Simon and Garfunkel music. Their music holds many dear memories to me. But besides that, they are such true poets, with lyrics that meld into a harmony that touches the inner soul. One of the great things that I find about songs is that it is possible to let the lyrics mean whatever you want or need them to mean to you– within limits (I suppose), you enter into the song, as it enters into you. And behold: a new creation, a new meaning. My favorite Simon and Garfunkel songs are probably:

The Sound of Silence; I Am a Rock; The Boxer; Mrs. Robinson

But what I want to share here are some lyrics that I recently came across and found particularly meaningful from a song called “‘Kathy’s Song”:

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is You.

And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of You go I.

Correct ≠ True

Katye — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 01:30:29 +0000

“The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement. But the opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth.” -Neils Bohr

To me, this statement captures something that we can intuit, yet cannot easily express: that truth is layered and that correct does not equal true and that the opposite of truth is not a falsehood because, I think ultimately, profound truths are never merely propositional.

The terms correct and false tend to refer to statements utilized within a representational framework in which our statement either corresponds or fails to correspond to a reality outside of ourselves. In a practical setting of our day-to-day living, this is fine and sensible. However, on a different layer of living as a way of being and trying to make and interpret meaning, I do not think the mere terms of correct and false apply. Because what we are dealing with now, is not a statement but a life, that is, a cloud of meanings and experiences and ways of being in the world. Profound truths emerge from this– and as Bohr writes, their opposite is not false because we are now dealing with something beyond the reach of correct or false. It is a different beast altogether.

Insofar as we ponder that correct ≠ true, the implications of this reach far and wide.

a Christmas prayer

Katye — Sat, 25 Dec 2010 06:20:51 +0000

Bless us, Christ Jesus; your love comes to heal the wounds of our heart.

A Taize prayer for Christmas

Nostalgia– a Christmas reflection

Katye — Fri, 24 Dec 2010 21:30:22 +0000

If ever there is a time of year that induces feelings of nostalgia, I would guess that Christmas carries the day. I have been thinking much about nostalgia– about what exactly it is and how it touches us so deeply in a hidden place within our being. Nostalgia, like grief, is present through a sense of loss; like grief, it also contains a longing that can bring forth a presence. Nostalgia draws upon memories, upon associations and experiences that evoke a feeling of safety. Probably this safety, whether it was ever real or is largely romanticized through imagination, speaks to very real pain in the present and anxieties for the future. Because of these feelings, a time of lost safety is desired again. We turn back to the past when the future feels threatening.

For me, nostalgia comes in many ways at Christmas. Hearing a Burl Ives or Perry Como song in a coffeshop; seeing Christmas lights and trees in the downtown store windows; being immersed in a sea of red and green in department stores; the smells of Christmas around the house; even Starbucks cups!

But I wonder about this nostalgic tug. I wonder if it is good or bad, healthy or hurtful. Is it another gimmick of commercialization and consumerism, urging us to spend more money by touching us– even exploiting us– in an intimate place of emptiness and longing inside? Stores utilize this tactic to sell more and more of their products. Is it a kind of escapism from the present, seeking to live a life that is not present in the moment? Is it false insofar as that which is being idealized and longed for was never even as good as it actually seems in retrospect, a romantic re-creation? Or is it a very real part of being human and the longing that comes with living in the flesh and experiencing life, beauty, joy, and hope within this world?

As I feel my heart being pulled from time to time this holiday season, I wonder what is pulling it, and how it is being pulled. I think probably just being aware of this is good for now. It is probably a combination of all of these things listed above and much more. Longing surely is not a bad thing. Longing that comes from an inner space must be even better, a longing for the sacred source of life and love.

That seems to be a Christmas longing that can be embraced.

a prayer

Katye — Fri, 17 Dec 2010 16:26:22 +0000

Christ Jesus,
born poor among the poor,
you are God's humility
and you come,
not to judge,
but to open a way
of communion with God.
-prayer by Brother Roger of Taize

I thought I would share this December prayer from my Taize calendar.

Choice

Katye — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 22:26:05 +0000

It is so hard to make a choice. From the mundane to the heaviest, every choice morphs into a new form of torment.

What to trust. Who to be.
Where to go. When to flee.

Which perspective to hold,
What book to read,
When to accept what is told,
How to share deepest need.

Which...
city
country
school
job
community
What to do.
What to be.

How to spend a day
Which words to say

yes no here there me you right wrong lost found
empty full up down centered awry create destroy
joy pain hope despair night dawn save damn
in out back forth leave stay good bad come go

Shifting thoughts
eluding the grasp
taunting then begging
to be named and given rest

What to do in the time we are within

How to be

The eternal question remains: how to choose.

Each option yields its own stream of possibilities and to choose for one seems to be to choose against the others. Within each stream, there is much that is necessary, though different and mutually exclusive; having to lose what could be induces fear and deep insatiable grief. But something will have to be lost, I think, because that is actually the only way that something can ever be gained.

Even not choosing itself is a choice. There is no escape.

To sit in the totality of indecision is to be paralyzed in the chaos, to be locked within the torment of hell– and the only way out

is to choose to leave.

You

Katye — Sat, 16 Oct 2010 02:42:38 +0000

“I’m the one who’s been asking you–

it hurts to ask– Who are you?

I am orphaned

each time the sun goes down.

I can feel cast out from everything

and even churches look like prisons.

—

That’s when I want you–

you knower of my emptiness,

you unspeaking partner to my sorrow–

that’s when I need you, God, like food.”

-Rainer Maria Rilke (in Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God) translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy

Lost

Katye — Thu, 30 Sep 2010 06:05:45 +0000

You are wandering through the inner recesses of an old castle. There are winding hallways, closed doors, spiraling stairs, and so many dark rooms. You came in here looking for something, but that which you came in search of cannot be found; and now, you have become so confused and have forgotten exactly what it was you came to find. You wonder if you can turn around and leave the castle. A panic arises– you must turn around, or you will die in the castle. But which way is back and which way is forward? You don’t know which direction you came from and there are so many doors and dark, empty halls. You whip around; and again; and again, until you are spinning in circles. Now, up is down and down is up. You can’t tell your right from your left anymore. You are lost, and the harder you try to get out, the deeper you become trapped in the hidden darkness of the old castle. You scream out for help.

And a voice comes back to you.

But there is no answer.

Just

an echo,

piercing through the empty darkness.

How well do Americans know about religion?

Katye — Wed, 29 Sep 2010 15:15:23 +0000

America is supposed to be a very religious nation, right? That is certainly the perception held by many Europeans, so I am told; and within America itself, religious references are rampant and self-proclaimed religious affiliations quite high.

One of my fellow Interfaith Council board members recently brought an article to my attention that I found to be quite surprising. The premise of the article is that religiousity is no indication of awareness. A survey was administerd by the independent Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, and the results yielded a deficiency with regards to some of the most basic religious questions. Not only was there a lack of awareness about other religious traditions– understandable enough– but knowledge was often not present within the questionees’ own proclaimed traditions. According to the survey, those who scored the highest were atheists and agnostics, with Jews and Mormons following.

You can read the article at: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/09/28/us/28religion.html?_r=1#

Also, I would encourage you to take the quiz yourself at: http://features.pewforum.org/quiz/us-religious-knowledge/index.php?

This quiz is comprised of 15 questions that are a sample subset of the original 32 administered in the survey.

Time.

Katye — Sat, 04 Sep 2010 04:05:48 +0000

A paradox.

It’s all that I have, and it’s what I am always losing.

Linear and Circular

Spiraling and Zig-zag

Here and there

Back and forth

Absent and present.

It’s always here,

It’s always gone.

Always changing, never the same,

Yet each moment is so like each one that comes before.

Empty.
Full.

It gives hope.

It causes grief.

Traps me.

Frees me.

Bondage and opportunity mingle.

Sometimes there’s too much,

Often there’s never enough.

Afternoons are longer than days,
Moments longer than afternoons;
Some moments consist of eternity, suspended over another world.

To reach the other side is to traverse the unknown expanse.

Years disappear;

They reappear in instants.

Images. Pastiche. All jammed together
A cacophony of faces;
Smells, colors, and feelings.

Each moment, I die.

But otherwise, there would be no life.

Ah, the strange world of time.