Showing posts with label bad fire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad fire. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 9, 2024

Self-immolations

There is a personal reason I take note of this phenomenon.

"[Journalist Samuel] Mena, of Phoenix, ignited his left arm — becoming the second person this year to set fire to themselves in the nation’s capital to protest Israel’s military actions in Gaza..." Yesterday, here in DC. www.washingtonpost.com/dc-md-va/202...

[image or embed]

— Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò (@olufemiotaiwo.bsky.social) October 6, 2024 at 8:33 PM

"Mena was a news photographer for Arizona’s Family, a Phoenix-based broadcast network...“Arizona’s Family expects its newsroom employees to conduct themselves with neutrality and objectivity,” the statement on its website reads. “Mena is no longer an employee.”"

— Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò (@olufemiotaiwo.bsky.social) October 6, 2024 at 8:34 PM

"Norman R. Morrison, a 31-year-old Quaker from Baltimore, burned himself outside the Pentagon to protest the Vietnam War in 1965. Wynn Bruce, a 50-year-old from Boulder, Colo., who was described as a climate activist dedicated to Buddhism, self-immolated outside the Supreme Court on Earth Day 2022."

— Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò (@olufemiotaiwo.bsky.social) October 6, 2024 at 8:35 PM

"And Aaron Bushnell, a 25-year-old senior airman in the U.S. Air Force, set himself on fire in front of the Israeli Embassy and shouted “Free Palestine” as he burned in February. A man also died in September after setting himself on fire near the Israeli consulate in downtown Boston."

— Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò (@olufemiotaiwo.bsky.social) October 6, 2024 at 8:35 PM

"How many Palestinians were killed that I allowed to be branded as Hamas?” Mena wrote. “How many men, women, and children were struck with a missile cosigned by the American media?"

— Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò (@olufemiotaiwo.bsky.social) October 6, 2024 at 8:36 PM

"The smell of gasoline wafted through the air as police and other protesters rushed toward Mena. Rallygoers screamed for a medic while bystanders tried to put out the blaze with kaffiyehs. Mena was transported to a hospital for treatment of injuries not expected to be life-threatening..."

— Olúfẹ́mi O. Táíwò (@olufemiotaiwo.bsky.social) October 6, 2024 at 8:43 PM
digital neon-colored wave chart

Sunday, February 18, 2024

On the portal: Midlife transition

A reference to "the portal" drew my attention. Yes, the midlife transition is like a portal. I read:

glowing circle

"Are You In the Portal?" It's a crisis, but it's an awakening. Anne Helen Petersen. Culture Study (Substack). Oct 22, 2023.

Petersen's mother said to her one day:

"'What are you now, 42?...I think that’s exactly when I started writing textbooks. I just had this huge creative surge.'

What an amazing way to reframe the energy I’ve been channeling this last year: energy to write another book, energy to figure out a Culture Study-related podcast, energy to dahlia farm. What if it wasn’t ambition pushing me forward….but a swell of creativity? And what if that swell of creativity was possible because I’ve become a whole lot less concerned with bullshit?"

Petersen read how Anja Tyson referred to "the weird spiritual / emotional / professional / transitional portal that women ages 37 to 45 are in." Then, Petersen says: "I became obsessed with this idea of a portal, and when I brought it up — on IG, but also in casual conversation — it seemed to resonate. Something was happening. Maiden-becomes-crone, sure. Destabilizing, yes. But it was also an experience of transformation, of refinement."

She spoke to Satya Byock, "a Jungian psychotherapist who specializes in younger patients going through transitions" and author of the book Quarterlife, who sees that, "within a Jungian framework, there’s a midlife passage," and "the experience is more intense if you’ve been heads-down — absorbed by parenting, by your career, by an illness, by something — for some time."

She also spoke to Claire Zulkey, author of the Evil Witches newsletter. "'Part of me thinks that I’ve gone through the portal,' she told me, 'but the part of me that’s paranoid and wise thinks: oh bitch you haven’t even begun to portal.'" If you're privileged to do so, you can redesign your life so you have more time for parenting, yet still, "it’s half boredom, half gratitude."

(I have felt that way about redesigning my life for an office career.)

Career coach Keren Eldad had her own experience at 36. It's just that something "sets you off the edge," as Eldad puts it. "It can be stagnation around your career, it can be kids going to elementary school or even college. It can be around physical changes..." Once you're set off, you're in an ongoing process of letting go of the past. What you feel about yourself and your life might be separate from what you feel about the new work you're doing. Eldad says: "Like, I am personally done, but this is not done. And that, you feel invigorated by. If you’re grieving what you’ve left behind, let yourself feel it. What you’re doing is gathering your strength, and there will be a point when the grieving ends."

Petersen concludes:

"There’s nothing magical about the portal. It can be painful and discombobulating and, as Claire Zulkey points out, sweaty. There’s certainly no guaranteed joy on the other end. I don’t think there’s a right or a wrong way to experience it or to understand its shape in your life. I don’t even think it’s gendered...It’s just a period of transition. You can lean into it, you can ignore it, you can understand it as a crisis or a transformation."

You should read her essay "Are You In the Portal?" for more of this.

'Shedding'

Sara Sadek talks of this type of letting go:

"We are leaving the year of the wood snake in the Chinese Zodiac—a year of shedding and intuition and transformation. We are leaving a year where we literally grew out of a skin that was too tight or constraining or oppressive—to let intuition lead in composting old relationships and patterns and habits in order to make way for our becoming.

The year of the wood snake is the year I broke up with the nuclear family to forge a different path. Shedding, like any metamorphosis, is not easy. It is in fact quite painful. But also and importantly, it is honest. And it is coherent. It requires first and foremost that we tell the truth to ourselves. It requires we listen to the deep knowing in our bones that knows the way forward. It requires we shed the mask of our self doubt enough to know that we’ve known the way forward all along, and we have the tenacity and wit and hard work to make that way possible.

As we end this year of shedding and watch it play out in our own lives, we are also witness to those forces in the wider world. This shedding — of a system others work so desperately to cling onto — is an inevitability. We can rest into knowing that. On what timescale, I do not know. But I do know we are a part of and a witness to this shedding, and we are responsible for what gets birthed in its place."

'Your story is not just about you'

"...every story, including memoir as well as fiction, has a dual narrative responsibility. Your story is not just about you. It can’t be. And if you’re not yet sure what else it’s about, then you have work to do. ...every personal conflict echoes larger struggles. That’s what we mean when we talk about linking the personal to the universal."
— Aimee Liu, "Afong Moy’s ‘Astonishing Little Feet’," Medium, June 25, 2024

On community

"...without the support, direction, and accountability of our communities and cultural identities, we have no center, we have no soul. That fire that burns in the center of collective identity and lineage and culture is the mythic hearth, and those who protect, embody, and maintain that center for the community are our hearth-keepers.

* * *

But who maintains the norms, rules, and ways of that group? Who remembers the songs, the order of things, the rituals? Who passes that culture along, and to whom is it passed? How is the soul of our family/tribe/community protected and maintained and enacted and embodied by us who are the members? It is the warriors who defend this, but it is the hearth-keepers who preserve, hold, nurture, and teach. And that work is hard and constant work, and is worthy of respect too. Warriors will help us tear broken systems down and will protect us from those who would destroy our homes and lives and ways of being in the world; it is the hearth-keepers that are responsible for maintaining and creating the societies and homes and communities we actually want to live in, who will set and maintain and enforce and teach those ways of being. Hearth-keeping is revolutionary: it is how we will rebuild the world."

— Riverdevora. The revolutionary art of hearth-keeping. August 21, 2017.

I wrote of my midlife transition

Bad Fire: A Memoir of Disruption.

Saturday, December 2, 2023

Enfield: 'I love how much I hate the word burnout'

Here are the three passages from Holy American Burnout!, a new release by Split/Lip Press, that most spoke to me.

Because I have thought about religious devotion in the context of moving my body:

"It's not that I don't believe in God; it's that I prefer bodies in motion, and I want my belief in God translated into reverential movement. God has always seemed inert, though I've been told He moves in us all." (p. 65)

Because anger is a valid response and it opens the door to change:

"Yes, to be a teacher and relatively conscious in america is to be in a rage almost all the time. Do you suffer in the mind or take up arms against the sea of troubles? You may recognize that the system is built on a one-size-fits-all curriculum that is given minor adjustments to suit the needs of your classroom. You may see how american education prepares certain individuals for the traps awaiting them outside school walls, and you may want them to understand both those traps as well as Shakespeare. You may be angry at those in power who continue to perpetuate these trappings, but you aren't faced with them on a regular basis. You're instead faced with the students who don't warrant or gain from your anger and can, in fact, be hurt by it. So you require something more like grace to navigate this system, or else the bitterness in your heart might melt and resolve you into a lifeless puddle trampled upon by the dancing feet of children." (p. 93)

Because commute leads to comm[b]u[s]t[ion]e:

"What's in a commute? When does it begin or end? Sure, the word implies an ending at either your workplace or home, but since we volley back and forth, maybe the entirety of our working lives is spent in one, prolonged commute. Such an individual exercise. We reach out occasionally and catch the attention or sympathies of a stranger or a co-worker kind enough to lend a ride, but in the end, we all have our own destinations. We can't stop moving.

I love how much I hate the word burnout. It's perfectly visceral. I can feel the burning of my muscles and the heated tension in my spine. Still, the machine grinds on, setting the transmission ablaze — burnt out. Burnout is frequently attributed to teachers, first year teachers especially, but it seems to me the greater american condition, bestowed upon anyone with a commute. * * * I see it there along the horizon too, a great american burnout. If you work the gears too hard, eventually the transmission will erupt. The car will have no choice but to idle.

* * *

Holy american Burnout, grant us the stillness of your fire this time." (p. 115)

Sean Enfield, Holy American Burnout!, Split/Lip Press, 2023

Holy American Burnout! book cover

See also

Enfield mentions Baldwin.

Sunday, April 16, 2023

Magical realism: Reality invaded by the unbelievably strange

Literary magic realism originated in Latin America. English Wikipedia today describes it:

"Cuban writer Alejo Carpentier and Venezuelan Arturo Uslar-Pietri, for example, were strongly influenced by European artistic movements, such as Surrealism, during their stays in Paris in the 1920s and 1930s. One major event that linked painterly and literary magic realisms was the translation and publication of Franz Roh's book into Spanish by Spain's Revista de Occidente in 1927, headed by major literary figure José Ortega y Gasset. "Within a year, Magic Realism was being applied to the prose of European authors in the literary circles of Buenos Aires." Jorge Luis Borges inspired and encouraged other Latin American writers in the development of magical realism – particularly with his first magical realist publication, Historia universal de la infamia in 1935. Between 1940 and 1950, magical realism in Latin America reached its peak, with prominent writers appearing mainly in Argentina. Alejo Carpentier's novel The Kingdom of This World, published in 1949, is often characterised as an important harbinger of magic realism, which reached its most canonical incarnation in Gabriel García Marquez's novel One Hundred Years of Solitude (1967)."

Read more on Spanish Wikipedia.

At the beginning of the series Narcos, a definition of magical realism:

Magical realism is defined as what happens when a highly detailed, realistic setting is invaded by something too strange to believe.

"...what happens when a highly detailed, realistic setting is invaded by something too strange to believe."

This definition comes from Strecher, Matthew C. 1999. "Magical Realism and the Search for Identity in the Fiction of Murakami Haruki." Journal of Japanese Studies 25(2):263–98. p. 267.

"¿cómo se construye la ciencia ficción en un lugar donde los conceptos hegemónicos de ciencia no coinciden con los que se han construido en nuestras culturas? * * * Las principales negaciones que se implantan sobre la ciencia ficción latinoamericana están dictadas por la forma en la que se ha entendido la anglosajona y europea; por ello se suele decir que en Latinoamérica NO se habla realmente de ciencia, que NO hay ciencia ficción sino fantástico, que NO hay una identidad consolidada como en otros lugares, y otras tesis del mismo perfil. * * * Concibamos un mundo en el que gracias a los conjuros del ciberchamanismo y los futuros andinos espaciales, ahora los guacamayos vuelen entre galaxias, canten himnos espacio-temporales y embellezcan con sus colores a nuestra madre universo." — Rodrigo Bastidas Pérez, prólogo a la antología El tercer mundo después del sol

Wednesday, April 12, 2023

On the ritual fire

The Roma,

“who have lived in Prague for only two generations, light a ritual fire wherever they work, a nomads’ fire crackling only for the joy of it, a blaze of rough-hewn wood like a child’s laugh, a symbol of the eternity that preceded human thought, a free fire, a gift from heaven, a living sign of the elements unnoticed by the world-weary pedestrian, a fire in the ditches of Prague warming the wanderer’s eye and soul.”

Bohumil Hrabal. Too Loud a Solitude (Příliš hlučná samota) 1976. Translated from the Czech by Michael Henry Heim. Abacus (Little, Brown Book Group), 1990. p. 42.

“In his 1967 article ‘Shamans and Acute Schizophrenia,’ a central source for the McKennas… Silverman then outlines a multi-phase model of pathologic experience that, up to a certain point, characterizes both schizophrenics and shamans. Drawing from the hero’s journey structure popularly articulated by Joseph Campbell, Silverman describes the earlier stages of this process as a descent into psychological chaos, a regressive state characterized by automatisms, archaic ideation, and encounters with transpersonal forces. This descent is then followed, most of the time, by a ‘cognitive reorganization.’ * * * Here [at the sealed Institute on the Big Sur coast] Silverman worked on one of Esalen’s main agendas: to rewrite insanity as an episodic process of psychic reorganization that follows the same death-and-rebirth model found, it was believed, in both esoteric initiations and deep psychedelic experience.”

Erik Davis. High Weirdness: Drugs, Esoterica, and Visionary Experience in the Seventies. London: Strange Attractor Press, 2019.

“Newness...is precisely the return from left-hemisphere familiarity to right-hemisphere familiarity, from inauthenticity to authenticity. It cannot be willed, though it might be much desired; it requires an (apparently passive) patient openness to whatever is, which allows us to see it as if for the very first time, and leads to what Heidegger called radical “astonishment” before the world. That concept is also related to Jan Patocka’s shakiness: a sort of elemental driving out of the complacency of our customary modes of seeing the world. … It involves reconnection with the world which familiarity had veiled. It is at the furthest remove from the need to shock: it requires looking more carefully at what seems only too familiar, and seeing it perhaps for the very first time.”

And, in a footnote:

"Jan Patocka (1907–77) was an important Czech phenomenological philosopher, active in the Charter 77 human rights movement. He spoke of the “solidarity of the shaken”, at one level an affirmation of the power and determination of those who have suffered political oppression, but at another a recognition of the resolve born of a different kind of suffering, in those for whom the comfortable familiarity of the apparently known no longer disguises the sheer “awe-full-ness” of Being — what Rudolf Otto called the mysterium tremendum et fascinans (Otto, 1923). Thus Andrew Shanks writes of “those who have been shaken, especially by the experience of great historic trauma, out of lie “within a lie” — or, in general, out of the unquestioned prejudices of their culture — into a genuinely open-minded thoughtfulness. This is not the thoughtfulness of scholarly expertise; but, rather, that other sort of thoughtfulness (to be found at all different levels of scholarly sophistication or articulacy) which may also be described as a fundamental openness to transcendence” (Shanks, 2000, p. 5)."

Iain McGilchrist. The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2009.

"Regret for the past is not the same as nostalgia. Pretending it is [the same] has always been the first and cheapest move of the present’s apologists. Regretting the past is...a way of steeling oneself for the fact that the past really is lost, and therefore maybe having a chance of looking the future accurately in the face."

— T. J. Clark, quoted on Twitter by Jared Marcel Pollen
https://twitter.com/JaredMPollen/status/1670417226489315331

"Time is like an eternal burning bush. Though each instant must vanish to open the way to the next one, time itself is not consumed."

— Abraham Joshua Heschel. The Sabbath (1951). Prologue. Reprint: New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2005.


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Bad Fire

a memoir by Tucker Lieberman

electric colors spiritual statue

Image: Bertel Thorvaldsen's sculpture of Christ. Copenhagen Cathedral. Image by Gunnar Bach Pedersen © public domain Wikimedia Commons.

Read: Cómo La Clase Liberal Se Apropió Del Trauma. Entrevista A Catherine Liu x The Institute Of Arts And Ideas, ECSND, Jul 13, 2026