A priori conceptions of love.

Recently, I took a literature class. The topic of the class: love and strife. Given the topic, it's not surprising that I've left the class with some interesting insights from various authors, and some original thoughts that I'm still hashing out. I'd like to talk about one of those here.

Kant, the philosophical father of transcendental idealism, says that we humans have an intuitive sense of certain aspects of reality that precede out conscious recognition of them. Specifically, he refers to space and time. He says that without an intuitive sense of space and time we would experience the world as if in malestrom. Experiences would come in short burst out of the order of time and space. That is, we would experience the world like that assuming we would know that we were “experiencing” anything at all. Why mention Kant’s conceptions of time and space? Here’s why: I’ve come to understand love as another prerequisite for the human experience. In the same way experiencing life would be like living in a kaleidoscope without a priori intuitive knowledge about space and time, so would our lives be confused (if not meaningless) without an intuitive sense of love. Relationships, how we understand others, and even our broader relationship with our world as a whole would be choppy and discombobulated.

Maybe it’s presumptuous of me to place love next to a priori intuitions of space and time as a metaphysical truth. However, I don’t think that I’m wrong. Love and strife stand as such basic archetypes to the human experience that I am lead to believe that they are not only derivatives of the human experience, but necessary prerequisites for it. 

For a class on love and strive I’ve learned more than I anticipated. In other ways, I feel like I haven’t really learned anything “new” at all. Like I said, love and strife are such fundamental elements of the human experience that it would be difficult to come into a class not intuitively knowing many key aspects. This class has felt more like discovery than learning per se, but even with that said I don’t think that the lessons end with my exit from the classroom. The lessons will continue on for a lifetime.

The Lit Log: Letters of Abelard and Heloise

The story of love between Peter Abelard and Heloise Fulcolt is told in this novel via a series of love letters sent between them. I won't tell you how the story progress and definitely not how it ends, but I will tell you this - it's worth the read, and I do have some thoughts about the book that don't necessarily have to do with the plot.

Abelard and Heloise write to indulge in both thanatos and eros. In writing, one allows themselves dissociation in that they can meditate on the thoughts in their mind. This is one of the main reasons that I write - to disengage with what’s on my mind, and get it on paper where I can see it. This also allows me to meditate on what I have been thinking. It’s a lot like have a conversation with someone much smarter than you, except the conversation is with yourself. I learn a lot about myself from myself in these intracommunicative dissociations with my mind. Nonetheless, writing also serves as a form of eros. In the event that one writes to another they build something. The writer constructs a message, hopefully an honest one, through which the reader can gauge what he or she means to the author. Or maybe the author simply writes to tell his or her reader something about himself. Either way, this creation, this text builds. It builds into the relationship between the two people, and on its own, it stands as a construction unto itself.

That said, the medium of print does some other things too. It also serves to eternalize. While procreation is among the best ways to carry out one’s legacy print can, in its own way, allow one to continue in love if one cannot or will not procreate.

Because there is more introspection involved in writing, it can be said that writing is a more pure and a more conscious form of communication than the spoken word. In this, we can learn from what the other thinks of us. There is, however, an element of trust in letter writing and in love. In loving another, I trust them with myself, I make myself vulnerable in ways that I wouldn’t with just anyone. This trust is necessary though. For this medium of honestly to have it’s full impact, one must be willing to surrender themselves to the other. By this we come to know each other’s worlds in such a way that the two worlds begin to unify as one.

In Abelard’s and Heloise’s letters we see this on display. Early in their life together, Abelard is so struck with Heloise that his drops even his studies for her. What is he to do when she is no longer there for him? Well, first jealousy emerges, but this teaches Abelard something: when a person is in winter, they keep the artifacts of summer with them the same way that one distills flowers into perfume or dandelions into wine. Abelard, late in their relationship - in the deepest winter of their relationship - has nothing to cling to but those artifacts of his summer time with Heloise. He recalls with ink the memories that he covets, as does she. In this, jealousy proves so true an ill that, in the end, Abelard and Heloise have two choices. One, they can let the jealousy toward one another that their love creates fester until it kills them. Or two, they can let this illness teach them something; they can let love teach them dedication and, and more importantly, forgiveness.

We would know none of this if our authors had chosen not to write. Therein lies another purpose of writing. To carry on and out the musing of their minds. We are fortunate to be exposed to such great authors as Abelard and Heloise to learn from them their thoughts about some of the things that matter most. This is, however, a very vague version of what they would have learned from their writing and from each other. We look to these texts primarily to study them to find or form a definition of love, but how much more awesome would it be to be able to look to these texts to explore the minds of their authors within the context of a relationship with that author? Of course, we catch glimpses of this too, but surely not to the extent that the original reads did. Writing does that for us. When I write a letter to someone I love, they get possibly the most true version of how I think and feel about them.

I know the magnitude to which writing communicates love for me is more than speech by this; in the for me nothing is ever really true until I have written it or seen it in writing. Call me what you will in speech: sexy, stupid, smart, stubborn, arrogant, attractive, boorish, caprice, ignorant, wise, lethargic, lazy, slow-witted, discombobulated, contradictory, put-together, stable, what-have-you. If, however, you want to put it in writing, be careful what you write. Write what is honest, because when you write - when I write, I become most fully what and who I am. Whisper what you will in my ear, but when you write you set it in stone, you put it to the wind to carry to the edges of the world and through time. By all means, write with truth, but above all, write with love. This, to you, from The Letters of Abelard and Heloise.

What's in a name.

It recently came to my attention the importance of a name. Names for things in general, but specifically people's names. I was with a group that had been meeting for about six months. One of the guys still didn't know my name or the name of one of the other guys in the group. Needless to say, this became a point of conversation while we were hanging out. Not to bash on my forgetful friend, but it is my personal conviction that it’s somewhat disrespectful not to remember someone’s name. Now, it didn't turn into a conflict or anything, but I did let him know my thoughts regarding remembering other’s names. I think that remembering and calling someone by their name is a great way to honor that person. It feels good to be remembered, and when someone doesn’t remember my name I'm always left to wonder, “did I make a negligible impression, or is this person just forgetful?”

What is it about a name that makes itself so worthy of our attention? Maybe it’s that we attach a persons personhood to their name. They are their name. Maybe it’s that a name designates and differentiates them from other persons. I know which person you are by your name. Maybe it’s that we just really like hearing our names, and by calling someone by name we give them a small pleasure. We like to hear our names. I have a feeling that the honor of a name has something to do with all three, and possibly more. 

So, what’s in a name? What does it do?

Linguistic relativity posits that words are relative to the person speaking them and to the person hearing them. Even with all the confusion that linguistic relativity creates, (for example - what Adam calls a dog, I might just as easily call a fuzzyjumper; this of course would make talking about the dog/ fuzzyjumper very difficult if there weren't one present) it would be impossible to think without words. The breadth and depth to which we are capable of thinking our thoughts is intimately related to the number of words that we have at our disposal to express them. So, without words, without differentiation, without names, it would be impossible for us to think our thoughts.

This leads me to two conclusions

First, due to the differentiating nature of words (that is, by calling a thing what you call it you separate it from what it is not) we gain the ability to have complex thoughts. Without words, without language, without names, there are no thoughts, no thinking, no communication. So, in thinking our complex thoughts, we associate certain names and words with others. This gives language and names an incredible power. This power can be both dangerous and beautiful depending on how we utilize it. By naming a thing we define what it is, not only to ourselves, but also to the world. So, we would do well to be careful about how exactly we label those around us.

Second, to not know my name is to not acknowledge the things that make me the unique individual that I am. Now, if I'm a stranger, then that's alright; if I'm someone you've met more that a few times, then I find it mildly disrespectful if you don't know my name. By not knowing a person's name you effectively (in a subtle way) attribute their being to all the other things that are unknown to you, and you make that person no more important than all the other persons whose names you don't know.

This may not be your personal conviction about labeling and names. However, there is one take-away that I want to be clear about. The ways that we think determine our actions and our words, and our words and actions perpetuate what we think. So, whether out-loud or just in our heads, we need to be considerate about how we label others; but please, if you've met someone a few times, try to remember their name. They'll like you more for it, and in a fast paced world of forgetful people you'll be doing them a great kindness.

Be Yourself

When are we ever not who we are?

Arguing and Conflicting

From my time spent studying speech communications as an undergraduate, I've developed an opinion about conflict that reflects both the potentially destructive aspects of conflict, and the productive aspects of conflict. For me, when I say "destructive," and "productive" I mean in terms of interpersonal communication, or the relationship aspect of the conflict (as opposed to the task or pragmatic side). Intentionally, I call it "conflict" rather than "argument," because I feel that those two words have fundamentally different meanings.

To argue is to fight. Fight for what? Fight for yourself, your ego, your pride, or your identity. My problem with that is: if I were to fight with someone to negotiate my status, or my identity, etc, that to me, would seem pointless. The socially constructed natures of my "identity" or my "status," or my "achievements" are such that the other is free to perceive those things as they will. I have little control over their perceptual filters and individual biases that cause them to perceive me in a specific way. So, to fight, or argue, with a person is to attempt to assert yourself, or the beliefs you identify with, in such a way that you force yourself on to the other. As stated previously, I see very little value in this.

To be in conflict, however, is to attempt to bring that person into your world in such a way that you invite them into your perspective. It's not a persuasive pursuit per se, but an opportunity for growth, in that, the two (or more) can begin to gain better understanding of one another, recognize common denominators, and begin to build a resolution from that.

Do you see the differences? In short, the difference is this: To argue is to force, and to conflict is to invite. I understand that this might be a unique way of connotatively defining these words, but no matter how you phrase it, it's still an important differentiation to make.

On Peanut Butter

She rummaged through the cupboard looking for what bread I had left and the commercial sized jar of peanut butter that between she and I might last a few weeks. “If you could have an unlimited supply of only one thing, while stranded in the desert, what would it be?” She asked. She smiled but didn't look up from her culinary artwork.

“I don’t know.” I paused for a second, “probably water.” I was far more concerned with how she would answer the same question.

        “What about you?”

“Peanut butter.” She smiled.

“Ohh really.” I rolled my eyes so hard it was probably audible.

“Yes! Think about it; peanut butter is, like, the perfect combination of nutrients. You could live off it forever!”

“Your mouth would get all sticky! What would you drink?” I had to ask.

“What? I’m pretty sure most food is seventy percent water anyway; you wouldn't need to drink anything as long as you had some kind of food.”

“Point duly noted.” I took a bite of her sandwich. “Wha’ a’out shel’er?”

She would definitely have needed water.

“What was that?” She giggled. She knew exactly what I had said, but she need to retaliate against my imposing realism on her fantasy. I smiled with chubby cheeks and swallowed.

“Shelter. You'll need shelter.”

“I can build something out of the empty jars.” She said enthusiastically.

She'd obviously thought this over.  

“Anything you build on sand would have no foundation; it’d blow away.” 

“No, not if I le’e ‘he jar’s ‘alf full.”

“Okay, fine.” It was getting harder not to laugh, but I knew if I laughed first I’d have lost the game. “But really, that wouldn't work.”

“Of course it would, have you ever been stranded in the desert with nothing but peanut butter? Unless you have some alternate life, and I don't think you do, how could you possibly know that?” All of her words came out without a single breath between them. “Besides, the peanut butter would make good protection from the sun.”

Right.

“So, you're plan is to live in a peanut butter jar fortress, slathered in peanut butter to protect you from the sun, and eat nothing but peanut butter?” I paused. “You realize that if you're covered in peanut butter you're probably going to get sand in every single crevice on your body. Last I checked, that’s not really great for ladies. Just sayin’.”

“At least I don’t drink pickle juice.” She said with fake sobriety. 

“That has nothing to do with this!” I laughed, and she swatted for my hands which I had thrown up in defeat.  

Talk about Muted Groups.

A muted group is a group or a culture that has effectively been "muted" by the majority, or the dominate culture. What happens is that the way of speaking or thinking of the minority culture just doesn't "click" with the majority, so, the minority is forced to assimilate the way that they think and speak to that of the majority. This sucks, for everyone. It's essentially the same as losing an entire language. We lose the ways of thinking and expressing thoughts that are unique to the culture or group. When a culture loses their ability to speak, we all lose. Here's why: there are likely systems of thought, or specific ideas that minority cultures or groups have that the majority doesn't. These are things that the majority can learn from. So, when a group is muted everyone gets stupider (OKay, that's a stretch, but I hope you can see my point). Needless to say, when a group is muted, everyone also misses out on the creative insights that that group or culture might have brought to the table. That sucks.



On a side note - muted group theory doesn't just pertain to cultures. It applies to all minority groups that have to cater their voices to that of the majority. The LGBT community is a great example of this; as are most religious groups.



Now, there's a difference between being diverse, and being "open minded." People like to throw that term around a lot. Oh sure, you're open minded, but is that really a good thing? While you're busy being "open minded," you're also creating and perpetuating the idea that there is a central group, or a right way of thinking (naturally you're an integral part of this group). Doing this implies that there is a "right" way to act or think. Fine. You do you. Keep on being "open minded" if that's your jive. When you're ready to make some real progress in accepting others for who they are, and start promoting a world where everyone is free to think their thoughts and be who they are, try to keep in mind the difference between being "open minded" and accepting diversity. By the way, there's also a difference between accepting diversity "at a distance," and really accepting it. To accept diversity at a distance is no different than being "open minded."



So, amen to this guy for giving a voice to his muted group in a language that's authentic to him. And if you listened to anything he had to say, well, then amen to you too.