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.

FOR NOW...

It is one of those phrases that implies ambiguity, prediction of the future … but those implications seem rather to be a sore misinterpretation. It is more a celebration of the present, an acknowledgment that change has come and the past truly is, in the past. We’ve entered the Now and all that brings with it.

Flipping through channels the other day I stopped on SONY entertainment channel to watch The Godfather II (my favourite of the must-have trilogy) and it was wonderfully refreshing and incredibly amusing to notice the corner age-restriction R18. Does such a restriction even exist any longer? The last movie I recall as possibly having that restriction is Natural Born Killers if that. But here on the SONY channel, suave Robert de Niro and an endearingly young Al Pacino are R18. One has to wonder though, is that ridiculous over-conservatism or have we become ridiculously uncensored in terms of what is socially acceptable, not just for adults, but more importantly for children. What age is now socially acceptable to rape children of their innocence?

I find myself currently in a ‘nothing phases me’ sort of state. Not a superwoman complex state however, but blasé, almost déjà vu, ‘yes that’s life’ shrug my shoulders complacency. And that’s not great! I recall reviews years ago about the movie City of God about the favelas of Rio .It took me very long to actually sit down and watch it though, which I only succeeded in doing a few weeks ago, and to say the least, I expected more, more drama, more disturbance, more shock-factor. What is wrong with me that the last movie I watched that crept under my skin was Hotel Rwanda, and this documentary not fictional movie of what is really happening makes me shrug my shoulders, raise my eyebrows and respond with a “hectic”, that’s all. No, no, I’m not saying the poverty, the violent resourcefulness of children does not affect me, I’m saying I’ve become immune to a degree. Yes, I’d like to idealistically believe it’s a defense mechanism to remove me emotionally from the horrors of this world that I feel so helpless to change, but once the thick-skin has settled on, does it really matter how it got to be there? It’s there, and it is entering me into oblivion.

For now, I’m detached in a way that I never used to be. No, I do not crave to be emotionally destroyed by everything around me, but I want to understand how it came to be that I almost care less, almost. Before, I was helpless, yet affected, change isn’t always good. So for now, I resolve to find a better solution than building walls, slicing off the pieces because I don’t like their fit and complacently accepting that innocence is lost. I am relieved that I still cannot watch a Pussycat Dolls music video without cringing and feeling like I am watching soft porn. There is an art to selfishness, a role of the independent in social responsibility. We are individual only to be separate pieces that fit into a whole, so perhaps our complacency can become something of the past and for now, we stop shrugging our shoulders because we are not directly affected, for now…change is come again.

Sure we’d all like to use “For now” as a hopeful implication of what is yet to come…but we’d probably have a better conscious understanding if we saw it as two words linking the past to present and leaving the future where it is meant to be…yet to come. When my brother was little, his animated lion hero was SImba, from The Lion King. For now, my nephews fluffy lions are named Alex, after the lion from Madagascar…

MACHETE

I entitle this piece as an accolade to a B-grade film by Robert Rodriguez. The term B-grade film has such connotations of “made-for-tv” movie, low budget, poor acting. And honestly I believe that that’s probably part of the appeal for creative geniuses like Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino to categorize their films into that genre.

Not that that is the sole basis of their appeal, but quite simply there films rarely classify into any classical “A-grade” genres of movie-making and the term “B-grade film” becomes a fantastic satire. The main star of Machete is Danny Trejo, and watching the film you understand why previously most of his roles have been as a physical presence with no or very few spoken words in the script. Jessica Alba, by no means the most talented actress out there, seems to make a concerted effort to exploit poorer acting skills than she possesses, Steven Seagal (who knew he was still alive?!) is an ill-cast representation of a Mexican Mafioso in a Fidel Castro safari-suit, and Robert de Niro and Don Johnson (no white suits in this movie) make for an A-list acting crew who get the point of the creativity of these types of movies and make it a hilariously cartoonish full-length feature film. Lindsay Lohan (I’m not a fan) landed an interestingly autobiographical role of her real-life self as well – the fact that she’s in the movie scored her some points in my book.

Most people who have no interest, respect or understanding of Quentin Tarantino or Robert Rodriguez will be quite astounded and perplexed as to how on earth I can be raving about such a shallow movie. And here’s the thing – we are ever more increasingly becoming a society of sheep that follow celebutants and deathly gothic creatures like Lady Gaga – who’s marketing campaigns are not even their own, her stylists dress he that way so that’s what she works with and alas, she’s got it to work! MTV no longer plays music! The entire channel is consumed with reality tv shows about … nothing. So to find creativity, true creativity not mass-frenzied or influenced is special to hold on to. Whilst I like Robert Rodriguez and am interested in his work, I only noticed him because he is a friend of my guru, Quentin Tarantino. Whilst most of his films are notoriously gruesome, it is violence in a stylistically excessive way which makes it different from merely being categorised as a slasher-film. He has a point, he thinks things through and is meticulous in execution. Kill Bill volume I was a 90 minute movie, there was a volume II because he began work on Volume I with the intention of making a 90 minute movie – and it was, a 90 minute movie. He does not set out the plot in chronological order which is stylistic device on its own. He’s not a guy who made it lucky in Hollywood and is riding the wave, he has a plan, a life, and its not tabloid-dependent or paparazzi flashlight determined. He plans to retire from films when he is 60 to write novels and film literature. He has planned the third volume of Kill Bill already – which is only going to be released in 2014 so that the main character The Bride and her daughter can have 10 years of rest and peace before making another film appearance. They’re not lost souls, these directors/producers/one-man film crews and their regular line of actors, they have purpose and execution in their dayjobs as creative artists. Sometimes, they’re even political activists. Machete for all its comical motives, deals with US immigration and Mexican grievances. Inglorious Bastards about the 2^nd World War. And soon hopefully, there’ll be Tarantino spaghetti-western about the history of the American south and slavery, because its never been dealt with. If you don’t love the guy by now because you’re obsessed with the Kardashians or only watch The Hills on MTV, well then try this, he’s so cool he even has his own film festival!

So here’s the thing. Creativity is not dead, it is just not the entity being blinded by camera flashlights at the moment, which has its perks in terms of an unwritten exclusivity to those who notice it and pay homage. Coolest thing about undertone B-grade…you have to be higher grade to get it.