Tag: Counterculture

LIMITATIONS AS A FOCUSING LENS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The old strictures sought to keep Quakers focused on their religious calling. As Damon D. Hickey explains (The Southern Friend, Volume XXVII, Number 2, 2005) them, “This cross, this obedience that was called for, was in the broadest sense the death of self-will and obedience to the inward Christ. … Thus, worldly amusements, especially dancing, were a waste of precious time and unfit the mind for devotional exercises. Music was the devil’s instrument. The Lord called his people to leave the world’s friendships, vain fashions, … sinful amusements, which would include the movies, the theatre and the dance. Perhaps this part would not much apply to our readers, but … in nearly all the so-called Quaker Colleges and Preparatory Schools dancing is practiced.”

He continues to quote 1943-44 writings by North Carolina Wilburite Anderson M. Barker, who argued that by yielding to Christ the Ruler

He will rule out all hurtful reading, and preserve all from putting too much time upon the news, and other such readings, to the neglect of the Bible and other good books, which have to do with our eternal interests.

Then there’s the quotation, “We Quakers only read true things,” told by a boy returning three novels he’d borrowed from a neighbor. Or what is erroneously sometimes called a Quaker hymn from North Carolina, which is usually heard these days in folk music circles, “How Can I Keep From Singing?” Or the recorded ministers who dragged me to an apple barn in Ohio for my first contradance, only to hear the next morning an elderly friend wearing a bonnet rise and wag a finger into the air, warning us of “that evil amongst us known as folk dancing” – while others looked down, sheepishly, trying to suppress a grin.

From the beginning of the movement, we have Margaret Fell’s objection to the strictures of a “silly gospel” that took hold, all the same.

Or later Quakers who accepted things that bind and pinch, as long as they’re chosen.

Or the struggle to keep a vibrant faith and intellect, rather than a barren one.

Always, the tension, in Scripture, between one world, “And God saw that it was good,” and another, sometimes called the ways of the world or even the wayward world.

So the challenge is in keeping a focused life that avoids becoming simply barren.

Let me point to the proportions of the classic meetinghouses – elegance as simplicity – plus the emphasis on philanthropy. Poetry as prayer.

So here we are, with our love of movies, music, theater, visual arts – and a tad of guilt?

I hear an echo of my father, with his passion for big-band music and some of the old hymns, “It would be a lesser world without music.”

I think, too, of a couple who lived without electricity as part of a strict economy that allowed them to focus full-time on calling and playing for country dances.

So here we are, with a visitor asking after the rise of worship – “Are you the pastor?” Before I could say anything, a voice behind me: “He is, he just doesn’t know it.”

Look, I want everyone to sit on the facing bench (elders gallery) at least once a year. “Her turn – next, a child.” Facing each other across history.

~*~

Elders 1

For more on my poetry collection and other reflections, click here.

Light 1

REAMS OF CORRESPONDENCE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 3 Comments

She wanted to review our email exchanges from our days of courtship but couldn’t find copies of what she’d sent me. Hoped I had printouts.

I’ve been downsizing, so some things weren’t where I expected to find them. Knew I had a loose-leaf binder somewhere.

Nowhere in my studio, though, the one in the attic. No, not the bookshelves or even the remaining filing cabinets or the knee-high closet under the roof. Nor in the first sweep of the loft of the barn. Not in the drawer of surviving correspondence there, either.

Naturally, I was perplexed.

One more round, though, and I came across a crate of binders. Aha! First one had Quaker letters, back before Internet. Second one, other letters. And then, a three-inch thick binder, our nine months of emails. My first emails, actually. How embarrassing … and fascinating! So long ago, it now seems.

Has me reflecting on how much times have changed, too – amazed, on one hand, how much I actually sent out in the postal system and received in reply. Where did the time come from? And reflecting, on another side, at how much today would be a click and later delete … and thus lost. (Printouts? Too tedious, most of the time.)

Another question even has me pondering how much of my poetry and fiction would have simply been shot off as blog posts rather than tediously typed and retyped, revised and condensed into literature, had another option existed?

If my small-press acceptances letters fill three filing drawers, as they do, the rejections would take up 20 times the space. Where would I put them? Or why?

Now, back to the juicy stuff …

A DARK CLOUD OVER THE HIGH-TECH ERA

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

Back in college, I encountered the argument that the more people were engaged in long-range planning, the less possible long-range planning became. In other words, as they put their assumptions into action, the entire field shifted.

Or, put another way, the fewer givens could be counted on ahead. That farm where you wanted to build a mall may already be a housing development or the interest rates may have soared out of sight or malls themselves may have given way to Amazon.

It was also all part of a recognition of the rapidly changing social world ahead, as we’re seeing in our high-tech era. Just where do people get together nowadays, anyway? As for dating?

Over the summer, I sat in on a workshop trying to look at some of the ethical issues we Quakers face in adapting to the use of Internet/social media in maintaining our faith communities, including the possibilities of online committee meetings rather than sitting down in one space together.

There are other issues the greater society faces, such as the rewiring of the human brain as a consequence of early-childhood online time or our “multitasking” activities. The ability to sit down and read complicated, nuanced long works is no doubt in jeopardy. As is, likely, the time for moral reflection. (Does that explain some of the latest developments in the presidential primary posturing?)

We didn’t get far in that direction, though, apart from looking at some of the pros and cons of our own Internet use. As an avid blogger and the author of ebooks, I had my own list.

The part I keep returning to, however, has to do with something at the core at what we’re using. Our screens, laptops, smart-phones, networks, and so on are all dependent on rare-earth elements, which – as their name reflects – are scarce commodities. Not just because they’re hard to find, either, but because they occur in low concentrations where they exist. It’s ecologically costly to extract them. Add to that, they’re mostly found in China – and the known sources are running out. (As the saying goes, the Mideast has oil, China has the rare earth supply.)

Remember, too, high-tech equipment is obsolete the day it’s produced – the next generation is already on the way.

Now you can add this to my neo-Luddite concerns.

I’ve long harbored suspicions about who’s paying for all of our “free” online usage. (Well, Firefox and Wikipedia are now pleading for donations after spoiling us into getting used to having something for nothing. I’ll assume most folks won’t contribute until they have to. Leave the voluntary donations to others.)

I remember the joys of hitchhiking, as well as how quickly it all ceased.

So here we are, all the same. Let’s see what’s around the corner.

STRENGTHENING WITH AGE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

The output of some artists sometimes falls into an arc of Early, Middle, and Late – and nobody exemplifies this more than Beethoven. For others, it’s often just Early and Mature periods, which can be quite satisfying in its own way – think of the continuity in the evolving symphonies of Mahler and Bruckner, in contrast.

As I, too, have grown older, my appreciation for Beethoven’s late works – the string quartets and piano sonatas, especially – has grown, eclipsing the charming classical period influences of the early work or the relentless drive and passion of the stretch that followed and continues his fame. In contrast, the late works are thorny, cerebral, introverted, brooding, even surprisingly contemporary in their affinity. He sometimes seems preoccupied with the intellectual puzzle – immersed in theory – turning his back on the audience. And, for years, these were considered pieces musicians tackled in private. Fortunately, that part has changed, especially for connoisseurs.

It’s not just Beethoven, of course. You can look at your own preferences in reading or music or painting or theater – take the list where you will. How has your focus shifted or your tastes changed?

Think, too, of your life aspirations, especially if the children have left the home or you’ve entered retirement.

I once desired to learn to fly and to hike the entire Appalachian Trail, but never seem to have the time or money. Now that I have the time, those aren’t among my priorities or maybe even my skill sets. And the writing efforts have taken center stage, in addition to gardening and similar projects here at home.

Think, too, of possessions – for me, collections of books and recordings, especially, I’m now thinning, along with the clothing, since I no longer have to dress for the office.

In some ways, it’s all part of the flesh turning bony. A unique approach of simplifying. You can hear that, too, in Beethoven’s late works – an emerging new strength given voice, even as the muscles weaken.

MARKING THOSE CALENDARS

~ Jnana Hodson ~ Leave a comment

Universally among Friends, you will find a roomful of calendars whipped out during announcements. (Or at least we did – these days it’s more likely to be Smartphones and the like, even for those in the retirement years.)

We need help keeping all of our activities in order, after all.

Religions also have their seasonal schedules, something known as a liturgical calendar. We chance upon it when we hear of saints’ days, Advent, Lent, or, of course, Christmas and Easter. Historically, Quakers rejected all of that – even birthdays or anniversaries went unobserved. That’s not to say we didn’t have our own kind of liturgical calendar. Quarterly and Yearly Meeting sessions were much more important than they are now, times of family reunions and courtship as much as religious business. Feasting, too, would be part of the celebration, as I can testify from one such gathering in a Wilburite Quarter in North Carolina – “It looked like the first Thanksgiving,” is how my traveling companion described it to his wife afterward. Fifth Month always reminds me of Salem Quarter in Ohio, the annual time when rhubarb was added to the ever-present applesauce. (For the record, the associations also run the other way; show me rhubarb, and I’m suddenly thinking of Salem.)
When it comes to celebrating, we’re not nearly as strident these days. Our Quaker calendars are overlaid with birthdays, anniversaries, secular holidays, Christmas, Easter, maybe even Super Bowl Sunday (where I live, depending on how the Pats are doing). It’s enough to make me wonder what we’ve lost along the way, as well as what we’ve gained. The many ways our focus has changed. In the meantime, don’t forget to pick out your calendars for the coming year – whatever size and style you find most fitting. The Tract Association of Friends has the one that keeps the old-style naming of the months and the days of the week, along with pithy quips from Scripture and historic Quakers.

And here we go again.

‘TIS THE SEASON, FA-LA-LA, FOR AN ALTERNATIVE

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 4 Comments

Here, in the midst of the annual holiday season excess, is a good time to remember that for most of our history, Quakers did not celebrate, in their words, “that day the world calls Christmas.” In New England, at least, they were joined by the Puritan legacy. In Massachusetts, for instance, Christmas was not legal until the 1850s.

Of course, these days it’s very difficult to ignore the hoopla – especially if you have children present. And I’m not even going to get into that Santa Claus stuff.

What I will do, however, is speak of the practice of Advent – observing the weeks building up to Twelfth Month 25th as a period of preparation and anticipation. Babies, after all, arrive only after nine months (or so) of pregnancy, and there’s much to be said for the changes in both the mother and the father in that period. Some Advent calendars come with verses and stories for the family to share over dinner.

Admittedly, by not bringing the tree in until Christmas Eve and not taking it down until Epiphany (the real Twelfth Day of Christmas, contrary to what some advertisers broadcast), you’ll be out of step with most of American society. That can have its own revelations, as you recognize the struggle some other faith traditions have here. But you may also find that unwrapping the presents can just be the beginning of a holiday fullness, not its anticlimax. Actually, our tree usually stays up a few weeks past Epiphany, but that’s another story. Oh, yes, and remember to have a few oranges. (Speaking of other stories.)

~*~

My wife makes reference, too, to all the Puritan diaries from New England, which recorded December 25 pointedly and repeatedly as “an ordinary day.”

THE DESIRE FOR DOCUMENTATION … OR AT LEAST CONFIRMATION

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 1 Comment

My career of editing newspapers often introduced a tension between trying to be the first to present important developments to our readers (that is, news) and their desire to have us run the olds – photos and lists of names from activities days or even weeks previous. My feeling was that their club and church items were usually of interest only to those who already knew about them – hardly the stuff of urgent news – and rarely added to our paid circulation. I’d met enough people who wanted others to read their publicity far more than they themselves were willing to extend the same courtesy to others. Put another way, if the “names-is-news” imperative had much merit, the telephone book would be much more thoroughly read than it is – and much fatter than it keeps getting in an Internet age.

More recently, though, in my retirement I’ve become involved in public events that could make the news spotlight – and haven’t, even when the TV cameras were turned on us. I’d love to show folks around me what we were up to. It’s confirmation we were there, actually. And that, I suspect, is what those readers wanted all along.

Curiously, that’s where social media are filling the gap in documenting everyday life. In the examples I’m thinking of here, the photos of us look great, for starters. The only problem, personally, is that I’m always somewhere in the corner, often cut in half. I guess it just goes with being in the bass section.

Well, maybe I could start taking selfies and posting them here. On second thought, though … I’ll spare you.

~*~

As a footnote, I’m also remembering one locality where everybody was willing to sign up for an event, especially as the committee chairman. Or more accurately, chairwoman. And as soon as the promotion announcement appeared in print, they all somehow vanished, leaving the two newcomers to the group with all the responsibility for actually pulling it off.

We never ran a follow-up to that effect, either.

EVERYDAY BEAUTIES, IN RETROSPECT

~ Jnana Hodson ~ 2 Comments

After recently coming across some now-historic Playboy centerfold playmates online – models we adolescent boys worshiped – I was struck by how average they were in retrospect. Not surgically enhanced nor abnormally thin waists nor even fashionably tall, as we’ve come to expect. Even their hair looked like the girls we knew – or dreamed of knowing.

Looking back, let me say it was the smile, more than anything, that got us.

And then, in the midst of the sexual revolution of the hippie era came a feminist rejection of Hugh Hefner’s free-love philosophy, even as events pushed far beyond his now pathetically comic hedonism. Quite simply, he went one way and we went another.

Yes, the glossy periodical was a rich patron for short-story writers and novelists, interviewers, and cartoonists, no matter the reality they were window dressing all along. Still, in many ways, Playboy appeared as a hip rival to the more staid New Yorker. For a while, it was even Chicago versus Manhattan in the realm of publishing.

And then Penthouse and Hustler attacked Hefner’s little empire from the other side of the respectability divide.

Oh, how long ago that all seems!

These days I’m reflecting on the magazine’s admission it can no longer compete with the nudity that’s readily available online for free and its decision to go more respectable, as Esquire did decades earlier. No more centerfold? Wasn’t that the magazine’s identity? What else has been stripped away?

In light of today’s world of publishing, let me say, Best wishes!

Especially considering Tinder and the rest of the new social-media lifestyle.