tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1660090614793277371.post4607188996408482563..comments2024-03-19T21:14:01.007-07:00Comments on The Compass Rose: Nature & The Contemplative LifeCurtis Favillehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06213075853354387634noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1660090614793277371.post-1336391306068431832012-02-09T16:56:26.536-08:002012-02-09T16:56:26.536-08:00Joseph:
Nice comment.
I was actually thinking so...Joseph:<br /><br />Nice comment.<br /><br />I was actually thinking some about Jack Spicer when I was writing this. Spicer, as you may know, believed in some version of the divine inspiration (external) as an explanation for poetic creativity. <br /><br />I wouldn't disagree about the possibility of what you describe. What are brains, after all, but ganglia of the universal afflatus concentrated in a small space? Brains "interpret" the universe by explaining itself to itself. I sort of said that--"the mind is an analogue for the world's density and buzz, which is what enables us to sense its mysterious qualities."<br /><br />Scale is relative too. We don't know how "big" we are in relation to anything. We can see bigness, but smallness is more elusive. Are there universes at the sub-particle level? We can only guess. How can we measure time? How long is an hour, if you take away the sun and the moon. What can we use to measure it?Curtis Favillehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06213075853354387634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1660090614793277371.post-69958555875389379662012-02-09T16:46:25.701-08:002012-02-09T16:46:25.701-08:00"[O]ur brain, which is literally where human ..."[O]ur brain, which is literally where human consciousness resides..."<br /><br />Well, I have an alternative proposition, put forward <a href="http://perpetualbird.blogspot.com/2012/01/friday-notebook-012012.html" rel="nofollow">here</a>. In a nutshell: "The idea that no creature possesses consciousness. There is only an ability to process and display consciousness. We receive consciousness the way radios receive signals: how well we receive it depends on how finely tuned we are organically; the same with how well we display it." As a poet, this explains (for me) the sense I often have when writing that the poem is arriving from the outside. Not from an angel, not from Mars, but just maybe from a dimension of Nature itself. No deity required, needless to say....Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com