Dynamic Quality is the pre-intellectual cutting edge of
reality, the source of all things, the completely simple and always new…
A subject-object metaphysics presumes that this kind of
Dynamic action without thought is rare and ignores it when possible. But mystic learning goes in the opposite
direction and tries to hold to the ongoing Dynamic edge of all experience, both
positive and negative, even the Dynamic ongoing edge of thought itself.
Pirsig
The dialectic aspect of the issue requires thought-passion—not
to want to understand it but to understand what it means to break in this way
with the understanding and thinking and immanence, in order then to lose the
last foothold of immanence, the eternity behind, and to exist, situated at the
edge of existence, by virtue of the absurd…
There are three existence-spheres: the esthetic, the
ethical, the religious. To these there
is a respectively corresponding confinium [border territory]: irony is
the confinium between the esthetic and the ethical; humor is the confinium
between the ethical and the religious.
S.
Kierkegaard
Though a valid avenue for some, to try and hold on to the
Dynamic edge does not require physical thrills of the fearless rock climbing, bungee-jumping,
sky-diving daredevil. In fact, I don’t believe turbulence is a prerequisite at all.
Certainly turbulence is not the adjective I think of when I bring to
mind the classic mystic. My personal
metaphor is body-surfing. As a kid I
seldom got the chance to swim in the ocean, but when I did I spent hour upon
hour riding waves. Man, I was in love with
waves. Body surfing is about timing, a
burst of effort, and then managing a precarious balance. First you need to get out to where the waves
are cresting. Then when you feel the
undertow build you know it’s time to face the shore and start swimming for all
your worth. Up the swell you go and with
one mad dash you maneuver your chest right on the breaking crest. If you’re successful, you’re upper half of
your body rides clear in the air, being pulled forward by the breaking
wave. The rest of your body drags and
keeps you from falling over and being smashed into the ground. You ride the edge, making adjustments mostly
by adjusting your weight by bringing your arms more forward out into the air,
or dragging behind you. When you get it
just right, it feels effortless, perfectly poised and balanced. On a good wave, ridden with grace, you can
travel 50, 60, 70 feet or more until you are gently beached on the shore.
For me, not quite getting the initial catch and drifting
behind the wave is like falling into a disappointing, static, old, lifeless
system. Going over the crest, however,
is crazy and usually fairly painful.
This is the mad, destructive chaos that fundamentalist are so frightened
of. But the edge is where you are awake,
fully alert, making the miniscule adjustments to maintain your position almost
without thinking. Your head is clear and
can see the inspiring power of the wave, while your hips and legs anchor you,
all the while rushing towards shore like a freight train.
To put it differently we don’t have to find the edges in the
far away galaxy of a black hole that breaks all the rules, bending light
towards itself. Nor do we have to go to
the micro-level of subatomic particles popping about in their quantum
leaps. When dealing with people, it
seems, the fabric of the universe can fold just about anywhere; the folds of
the veil can be pushed aside as an ordinary daily function, if we just know how
to feel for its edges. Humans are such
complex and dynamic gestalts within gestalts.
Any one fold can reveal multiple edges of different patterns layered
upon each other.
To hold on to the edge—or as Kierkegaard might say—to embrace
the paradox, one has to be comfortable with a certain type of tension; a
tension where you are both grounded and wild at the same time. Personally, what is usually the most
effective means of staying as close to that edge in regular, ordinary
interaction, is humor. That humor which deals
with the absurd; with the tension of contradiction that tickles our funny bone somehow. Cultivate a sense of humor in your kids and
you’ve given them an invaluable tool to navigate life. Show them how to laugh at themselves, and
they will readily make friends.
This would lead me to venture that interrelating with each
other has the potential to be where the most powerful interaction with that
pre-intellectual Reality. To push the
concept even further, I would venture that a transcendent being, (using my
heretical understanding of transcendence) would be very much in tune with that
Reality and holding on to that Dynamic edge and thus at its essence,
relational.
The one time I ventured to explain to my family that I
thought Goodness precedes Truth, they were shocked and accused me of making
Truth relative. It didn’t help my cause
when I pleaded absolutely guilty. Gosh
darn it! Truth is relative, because it is all about relating to Goodness. Interconnectedness
is woven into the fabric of the universe down to the subatomic level. I find it so beautiful that if you separate a
pair of spinning electrons, which spin in opposite directions—no matter how far
you separate them, even to opposite ends of the universe and then you switch
the direction of the spin in one electron, the other one will simultaneously switch
its spin. Truth is relative. Possibly it may
even be more correct to say Truth is relational.
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