Condense fact from the vapour of nuance.

Concepts for Conscious Living

I found the book Snow Crash by wandering down one of those peculiar paths I'm known for. I  first found TechGnosis, by Erik Davis, which is sub-titled, "myth, magic and mysticism in the age of information. "The book is an excellent treatment of the "religious impulses and magical dreams [that] permeate the history of technology, and especially information technology. "

Davis kept referring to science fiction, which is not a genre I spend much time with. His enthusiasm  for Snow Crash was quite evident; then, it turned out to be the only one of the books mentioned that was in stock at the book store. I absolutely loved the book, which is sort of the story of mind viruses and religion and how they collide in the near future. I found three quotes that I loved. Our concept for the week is the first. The rest will show up in the next few weeks.

Carl Jung talked about the collective unconscious -- a realm or stream of data common to all of humanity. He postulated that all that we needed to know was, in a sense, already known, and somehow available to us. Access to the information involved figuring out the card catalog.

We tend, in general, to have a primary belief system (see last week's article) that was sort of shoved down our throats. For our own good, of course. It's usually about as subtle as a Mack truck. It's a system of absolutes. "All women are . . . "No son of mine . . . " "Work until you drop." Then, we add our own, which are based upon the primary system. "No one ever listens to me . . . " "Every time we talk, you always . . . " Again, as we said last week, we learn to believe something because someone gave us their rules when we were young,  or we have an experience with a parent or a partner or a friend, and then we universalize it.

I have a client, who, among other things, believes that "All men are the same," especially when it comes to physical contact. (Although when she hangs around with me, she'll say, "All men are pigs. Except you, of course." I assume she means the pig part . . . ) 

Her belief goes back to an amalgam of her father's hands off approach (no hugs) and the early and evident onset of puberty, with boys groping her from age 12 on.  Now, at age 34, when her boss shakes her hand, squeezes her forearm and wishes her a Merry Christmas, she's sure he wants more. Her belief, then, is this: men should never touch; if they do touch, they always want sex.

Subtle. Like a Mack Truck.

While it's nice to have a bank of memories so that we know, for example, not to lean our hands on the red coil on an electric range, there really are no reliable "all the time" rules regarding our interpersonal relationships. What's going on in our relationships, as we communicate, as we interact with each other and the world, is often in the nuance. The glance. The tone. The glimmer.

For example,  we assume that when someone uses the tone of voice another used, and the other person was angry, then the present user is angry too. We may miss the telegram she is holding, the start of a tear in her eye, the catch in her voice. All we hear is the shouted "Leave me alone!!!"

And then we find our that the telegram announced that her grandmother died.

Or, take this work, this walk we are on together. On the surface, the things I'm writing about are pretty straight-forward. They make sense. The interesting part is in the application. That's usually when the "Well, that stuff may work for others, but my problem is serious" comes in. What I am talking about is not simple, obvious, nor plain. It's vapour. It's nuance. Grab for it, think you own it, and it is gone.

Thus, the walk we are on is not a "simple, learn it once and you've got it" New Age slogan. (You've noticed those don't work, right? Been there, done that, got the tee shirt . . . ) This walk is about paying attention all the time, to everything. To the big picture, but especially to the hints. The subtleties. The nuance.

I often watch the body language of those I'm with. The way the person is breathing, walking, standing, holding themselves, speaks volumes. I also spend a lot of time asking people what they mean by what they say or do, as I only know what saying or doing something means to me. Again, the truth is in the nuance.

To condense vapour to water takes time. To condense nuance to fact takes time. Listen. Look. Ask questions. Resist assuming you know much of anything. 

Wisdom is a prize that is best grasped lightly.