a 'prepared page' with seven fragments of my journal - and a new fragment of the digital diary - between which I intend to improvise a connecting text
...but in this world,
no longer protected by professionals,
we still fear and fight
the mechanical world we created as specialists,
blind to everything else...
yes we fight our former selves,
we/they are the enemy,
unfallen and unrisen
the people of moral flatland.
that is both our weakness and our strength.
but now we move beyond our former selves!
this is our opportunity
4th october 20002
...a satisfying feeling
of having stumbled on
a very simple and integral way of writing the social fiction
as a second view of what exists.
I sigh contentedly-
not too worriedby these cliches.
we pause to think
before we act or speak or write
to undo the old compromises
and to support what is new
this is a call for action, thoughtful action,
and a new beginning of the world
"Rhythm musthave meaning,"...the opening words
Ezra Pound insisted in 1915.
And he is right.
left-right, left-right, left-right
we marched in military blindness
but our justification is gone
A still afternoon.
Most of the leaves have turned brown
and many were blown off in the storm.
a man and a woman in colourful clothes
walk by hand in hand.
each carries a stick or pole bound in coloured ribbons.
he sees me and waves
as if we are still in the sixties.
and a church clock strikes four
as if in an earlier century.
I spoke to an Irish man
who was gazing at the swans.
We talked about them.
I mentioned W B Yeats' poem
The White Swans of Coole.
He said that he didn't have any of the words.
I said that I remember only the title*
but that is enough.
You are easily pleased he said...
I suppose he is right.
(*but I remembered it inaccurately:
it's The Wild Swans at Coole
which is also the title
of one of W B Yeats' collections of poems.)
Thin grey clouds are moving slowly to the south
beneath a pale blue sky..
Now they turn pink
in reflected light of a pink sunset.
At ground level it is getting dark.
Time to go.
when acting in the present,
to change it,
do so in ways that assist the new to be born and to grow
and that enable what exists
to support it, not oppose.
and be sure to get the scale and timing right
to suit the capabilities of the situation
let accurate perception
and well-informed imagination,
not ambition or defeat,
decide the way
so this entry to the digital diary
can be my new beginning
The Word Speaks to the Faustian Man,
Som Raj Gupta's interpretation of
Sankara's interpretation of
The Chandogya Upanishad
(Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, Delhi 2001)
...in which those interpreters explain and extend
the non-dualism of Vedanta Hinduism
and reveal its relevance to modern and post-modern thought.
...it has been so necessary to write in the open air.
This fact (of the necessity of the open air)
is very curious,
and I cannot really explain it...
Always especially the sky
seemed to contain for me the key,
the sight of it more than anything else
gave what I wanted
(sometimes like a veritable lightning-flash
coming down from it onto my paper
I a mere witness,
but agitated with strange transports).
Som Raj Gupta
(from page 717, chosen by chance):
...we need the eye of the other to be ourselves...
my mother, my father, my friends or my enemies
may make a human person of me
through their looks and the expressions in their eyes
but they cannot do so unless there is already a seer in me
to notice that reflection...
...of my physical and human self.
Thinkers like Foucault have to realise
that when they live as mere interpretations...
...they will cease to be interpretations.
If ... they realise that language too is an ambiguity,
depending for its being
on its other that it is not,
as much as that other depends on it...
...they will find themselves unable to speak or to listen...
...when language too will become that vibrant silence.
I hope to write more of it later.
digital diary archive© 2002 john chris jones
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