VICTIM

We live in an era of branding - Fashion, food, vehicles and people. It is not something that will be helped, we have moved past opposition of it into acceptance the pearls and pitfalls of which I am not going to zoom in on today.

There is a branding of people however that is not new. It is not old either. And it bothers me somewhat. I remember being at an address by a motivational speaker once, renowned in South Africa for her struggle and survival of a heinous crime that she survived, wrote about and used to empower women. She was introduced as a rape victim. It is such a taken-for-granted term that I thought nothing of it at the time. Of course that is what she is, a rape victim. Those two words tell her entire story and evoke immediate empathy in every listener attending. I now realize what a condescension it is, to brand someone in that manner. Is it at all fair, just and empathic to take someone and strip them of their identity, remove all essence of who they were before such an awful event and restructure their future by such a branding that for ever more they will be known only by the acts of a criminal. Almost as though their life is not their own, completely restructured and reshaped on a single life episode. We cannot allow the satisfaction of an aggressor, knowing they had such power not only in the moment but over another person’s entire life. And there are those who are aware of this, who change it and call them rape survivors. But that too, implies a lifelong struggle against an offender and a life shaped and reformed around only that, the act of rape.

There are other victims too. Sufferers of disease, ill-health, sufferers…and cancer victims, and cancer survivors. Yet again, a branding based on a disease, a branding which implies their was no survival, there is no celebration save for cancer which is the victorious conqueror, constantly needing to be survived against. What of the personality, career, the life of the person? All are discarded and a new, easy branding in its place with cancer forever at the forefront. And what of the silent sufferers? The “victims” of other illness and misfortune that do not have that universal branding – nothing of them, by the very notion of namelessness, brandlessness, they remain invisible. So should we be striving to brand everyone? Or realize the error of it all – identities are stripped by placing people into specific boxes, and some sufferers neglected for not fitting into a box. Humility is recognizing that everyone has a story that is as sad, painful, emotional and joyful as your own. The heroes amongst us are not the branded victims, nor are they the unbranded ones, they are the ones who stride boldly into adversity coming out on the other side into a new world, bringing their past with them, and from the claws of wretchedness and anguish taking their life back.

So what of it? Why have these brandings lasted so long, not only in the most trying times of our lives but daily events as well? We crave the attention, because as incorrect as it may be, society caves in, walls break down and wells weep for obvious agony. It is somewhat to be admired, the craftsmanship of a damsel in distress – a skill unmastered by very few Indian women. It is not a skill that will be lost or altered for society has little changed in centuries. The history of civilization is an interesting perusal then as to how this skill developed, women were always seen to be the meeker, and sometimes lesser species, the emotional ones, and thus they developed tactics to play on that perception for attention? Survival? Expectation? I can’t help but wonder if within all the concentration of playing this game, something of oneself is not lost? A neglecting of true self, of realistic perception, of absolute potential.

An impossible proposal I am aware – to try and stop all the games being played, to be conscious of the brandings we make and alter perceptions. Darkness is merely the absence of light, but even in the presence of light, we are blinded or programmed to one-dimensionalism and cannot see the slanting rays of sidelight, backlight and the changing colours of lights prism through the passing hours of the day.

The strongest women I know fight their adversities rather than succumb to an age-old tradition of victimization. Yes, there is pain and silent suffering beneath their bravery but there is also hope, appraisal and respect of the highest degree, as I watch them take their lives back.

The Golden Hour

The word photography is derived from the greek ‘photos’ and ‘graphos’ – the drawing of light. It is the most beautifully romantic description of an art form that works to encapsulate this world in the most natural or the most abstract way. Drawing light like brushstrokes, or an internal absorption of energy, of life…, an awakening. The concepts of contrast; of lightfall and shade as the day passes; and scientific optical manipulation to create different perceptions and evoke an array of emotions from the same subject, are a psychology unto itself.

Perception is a remarkable entity. There is no right or wrong amongst us, on the basis of the lenses through which we choose to view this world, this life, this existence. And there is no flaw in lack of consistency of perception as we travel through life. The fastidiousness by which we precision our perceptions improves, and appreciation of the tweaks and fine-tuning of the process enhance with the evolution of memory and mind.

We all latch on most strongly to perceptions evoking powerful emotional responses. The concept of drawing light, the ancient greek origin and all connotations that ancient Greece holds - driven by the gods – brings out a passion, a will, a connection with the earth, not the world, but its supernatural elements that before were taken for granted, acknowledged as merely existing not awed at for their very existence. The day has two golden hours, knowing that, can awaken a seeking…and finding of the rest of the golden light we should want to know.

There are plenty of golden hours in life. Good conversation does not necessarily flow relentlessly. It is a smile that lingers once you have left, reminiscing not the words that were spoken, but the experience, the feeling, the enjoyment of having shared those words. It is a warmth from a tungsten lamp, that created mood heedless of surrounding atmosphere.

Finding your passion – not a passion, but your passion, the light within you that ignites and makes you glow is a spiritual entity. It is like being filled with white light, not fluorescent but pure. Waking to start your day with purpose, overstaying at a scene you hadn’t anticipated would affect you, a sudden awakening, as though you were semi-comatose and have just discovered consciousness, a golden hour of white light.

Feeling any emotion but with an absolute heightened awareness that you are experiencing an emotion is candescent. To experience that emotion called love, for all it brings with it, angst, hope, enlightenment is an hour we have all definitely experienced, sadly sometimes with eyes wide shut. For love, has no requisition that it will be reciprocated. It is not false because it did not fade away merely because it wasn’t returned, leaving angst and yearning in its midst. Love is an entity unto itself, making no apologies for its ways, its existence, or the choices we make about it. It doesn’t come when we call, or subside when we cannot accept or commit, it can dazzle or glow gently, spark and crack or hiss and simmer – and we can ignore it or worship it, but that will not change its ways.

The golden hours are not few or far between. They are magical for they require no effort to seek, rather a will to find. There is a sunrise and a sunset everyday. And everyday there is a dawn, and a twilight to follow.

Laws of attraction

Newton’s third law states that the mutual forces of action and reaction between two bodies are equal, opposite and collinear. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. In a mode of matter in a state of rest, there are an equal number of positive forces attracting negative forces – opposites attract. Years before him however, Plato had a conflicting set of laws of affinity postulating that “like attracts like”. In a state of equilibrium, both arguments may very well hold true but everything has found its place, all is in balance.

So too in the states of human emotion, balance may be sought by opposites cancelling each other out, positive forces binding together and negating disharmonious influence. If the solution is so scientifically simple, so earthly sound, why have we failed to fine-tune equilibrium as yet? Probably because we have failed to identify the true binary opposites and positive versus negative conflicts – faith vs disbelief; love vs hate; order vs chaos.

The opposite of faith is disbelief? No disbelief is a belief in its own. It is a conviction, it is thought, and it is concretely arguable against that which is believed. No, the opposite of faith is doubt. Doubt has no platform on which it stands; it floats airily without direction or purpose far less tangibly than the ebbing and waning of flowing water. It cannot be captured, it cannot be comforting, nor can it be questioned for it holds no answers. Doubt, serves to put into disarray any tenured state of belief.

And what of love? And what of hate? Can these two emotions so equally powerful, so equally capable of rousing such heightened states of emotion, cancel each other out? It is said, that there cannot be hate without love. To be aroused to such a state of emotion above detestation, above loathing and abomination, there must be an element of love, even if it is wounded, scarred or broken. If hate does not conquer love, then what is its binary opposite? Indifference perhaps, or apathy. Fair possibilities the both of them, but apathy has a state of emotion to it be it even the ATTEMPT not to feel. The opposite of love is fear. When we fear, we go numb. It is not a creeping up of icicles against our skin that blocks out the warmth of emotion, fear negates entirely any sensation, to feel nothing is its power. There is an expression of almost being able to smell fear, people talk of the taste of fear, but in actuality what they mean is they smell nothing, taste nothing, they are indeed numb. So too could it be said that if fear blocks out love it could block out hate, well yes it blocks out all emotion, but love is rightly regarded as that most heightened state of emotional existence, and fear can conquer this.

When I think of order I immediately envision military lines, geometric blocks, harsh shapes, corners. Interesting about these visions of order is that whilst there is control, the control is not necessarily your own. Yes it is possible to be pulling rank yourself, drawing those severe lines by your own hand, but chaos is movement, haphazard, uncontrolled but not still. Can one really justify halting that which displeases and unnerves you, by stopping motion? Of course not, because it is a transient solution as the beat will play again, nothing is meant to remain still. So to seek a solution to chaos we need to search for a motion that is beautiful, graceful and effortless to continue. Whilst chaos is a continuous, crazy, energy-expendable action, there is such a state of motion that is harmonious yet not boring - bearing its own syncopations and rhythmic turns - an existence of constantly moving, like chaos, to no defined goal….called peace.

And so it is that perhaps our goals are flawed, our direction mystified. For to seek faith as oppose to disbelief (believing in one thing is always disbelieving another), fighting hate to stop it ‘conquering’ love, and attempting to militarise our lives, targeting motion to battle chaos, it does seem that we are a little lost. No matter how hard we persevere in this way, no forces will be kept in check, and we will only be deluded further by moments of orderly disarray.

Eagle

There is something magical about this bird, almost unassuming of its true magnitude. A speck in the sky because it flies higher than the rest that its size and power are undetermined, yet watching its angelic grace as it soars so close to the sun allows one to understand why the mythical creature of the phoenix is based on its form.

It is almost a creature not of this earth nor meant to ever walk our land, only roam above, keeping a watchful eye on all, protecting. A magnificent juxtaposition that its colours are of the earth, as though it were moulded from the ground and then gently released into the sky, like a kite in a calm breeze, and when its strings were cut, it continued up until it found its platform in the sky, to watch over earth in its mortal form.

But to remind us of the strength behind beauty and grace, it occasionally ever so delicately swoops down to take of the earth, permitting us to witness the power of such beauty, to understand fear of flawless creation. And then a silent retreat, back up into the heavens, towards the sun.

What's next?

In the ebbing and waning of life, those moments of lull, we become passive. And we wait. For change, for the next great moment, for time to pass. It is interesting how during the moments when action is most needed, we chameleonise into a passive comatose state.

Innumerous times through all our lives we pass through the ponderance of the meaning of life phase. Sometimes we find transient answers, other times the next chapter of life kindly unfolds for us and so we are distracted, and at the worst of times we are sucked into that black hole of emptiness because we can’t find what we think we desperately need to know in order to be able to go on.

So how about this? There is no scientific meaning of life. No tangible common goal or purpose. We are in existence, yes we simply exist, and can ignore that very fact or reap the benefits thereof. To enjoy each other’s company, to enrich our lives with all that has been created for us and what we have added by creation ourselves. It is a tangential journey – factual by the cause that time progresses, age ensues, nothing is repeated nor the beginning point ever crossed again. And as abstract as it seems and is understood, there are spiritual factors at play prodding our free will, enlightening us and guiding us. Abstract because there is not one common definition of spirit or how to seek and find it, no art to it and definitely no science involved – it is a gifted concept, a gift because we can each unravel it, open it and interpret it as our own.

There are many ways to walk through this journey – unconscious, inhumane, disinterested, searching, reaping, with purpose, with zest. Do take note that none of the methods mentioned involve emotion, people say we have a choice to walk through life happy or sad, untrue. Whatever your chosen path, and your choices will constantly change, all emotions will follow you whichever way you go, there must be greater purpose than mere human emotion to drive one through survival. To make it a spiritual journey be that to find our way back to existing in that god-like state in which we were born, or to have started as earthly matter to seek the ultimate conversion into an illuminated soul seem both correct ways for me, however they are not the only way. Though some believe there must be a common goal, the same end point, in truth, the only commonality all 7 billion of us are working towards is death. That is our destination. So is the purpose of life death? Of course not, death is the final destination, and destination is not purpose.

I do not believe in coincidence, life for me is a series of non-coincidental sequences which we can passively ride along on, or notice them, awaken to them, and live with purpose – the purpose of your choosing. Whatever be your state of existence, what comes next follows on from today. The sand in the hourglass will not cease to flow, because we cease to exist.

Inspiration

It is often thought that inspiration only comes when something goes wrong. Well yes, the coldest and perhaps darkest hour is always before dawn. But noon is often the most productive part of the day.

When things fall into disarray, when the unexpected ensues (amusing notion in itself for all futures are unknown, it is the occurrences that are unwanted rather than unforeseen that we fluster around chaotically), it isn’t really true inspiration that revels. It is hope, the power of choice, the will to live, which is recognized and celebrated. Seeking the light through the darkness is not necessarily inspired, it may merely be survival.

So what then is true inspiration? It is a U2 concert, where rock band activists are not ashamed to ‘entertain’ with soul, with purpose and with humanity. It is the appearance of a smiling, endearing, youthful old man and the gentle almost playfully innocent way he speaks to a nation. It is identifying with our moral voice that will not be silenced despite our silence, the Arch (Archbishop Desmond Tutu). It is the memories whence forth we came, when looking at a picture of Nelson Mandela -  and discarding rather than ignoring the faults of a man and gravy trains he may have wrought - but recalling rather the greater sum of his parts, so that his iconic semblance is not of a man, but of a nation united.

Looking at the history of our world, not all great men are good men, the attribute they all shared was the ability to inspire. Not all were the best orators, but those with passion, fervor, purpose and belief are those who lead best – and not all followers need be sheep, when shown a path we are all artists with the power to canvas easels, create more, inspire farther.

To soar on the touch of true inspiration is not to be blinded by light from the dark…it is magical. It is a springboard for creativity. It is the way history does not repeat itself but progresses.

Thought for the day – it should be on everyone’s bucket list, on all new year’s resolutions, not to be truly inspired, for true inspiration finds us every day,…but to ACT on it.

Trepidation

Trepidation. Fantastic word isn’t it? That state of existence to which we all sink as default when left unawares. Whereas anxiety is a constant, steep escalation to a pinnacle point of turmoil, trepidation is a platform of lower-grade panic, that can linger eternally, the reasons for apprehension changing as need be and old issues are resolved to be replaced by new ones, all the while, unfaltering stable on this quivering platform.

A false contentment, trepidation. Full-blown anxiety is over, things seem stable and in order and goals are attained, resolutions found, and then we start to feel the quiver. A quiver of uncertainty, about choices past; about choices today for all todays lead to tomorrow; of what to do now that goals have been met for we cannot allow the entrance of stagnation. The wondrous nature of trepidation is that it leaves one with lingering uncertainties to be acted upon rather than tumultuous fear as in anxiety and panic.

We’re not meant to be looking for contentment. That is purely and simply stagnation. Happiness, it must be reminded, is not contentment, but a state of mind sought and found in any situation. But happiness is an entirely different discussion on its own. Point today is that this platform results in productivity, action rather than stagnation, inspiration and passion,…and with all aspects of life, the balancing factor here is depression rather than fear.

The potential seems just to great though to bore over the worries that feed the vine. Bottom line, trepidation is the default state we should all seek to find. And if your will is not strong enough, try some Prozac but stick to that tumultuous, quivering platform, progression is endless.