Shattered Rituals

I never noticed the ritualistic nature of my life until I was confronted with the absence of those rituals. My dog--my best friend for the last 9 years--died yesterday. All of our daily rituals were shattered in an instant. In retrospect, I realize this shattering occurred gradually though, like a nick on my car windshield that expands slowly from the origin with web-like projections until the structure is too weak and the slightest stress fragments it into an incalculable number of incongruous shards. The nick was the loss of Bel's appetite. She wouldn't eat, so I ceased the ritual of rising from bed at six, habitually scooping her food into her bowl, and taking her outside to pee. The ritual wasn't completely lost though. It transferred into the administration of pills, the medicine I hoped might keep her alive. Every twelve hours I gave her the pills, disguising them in peanut butter until the peanut butter no longer offered enticement, and then resorted to placing them in the back of her thoat and forcing her mouth shut until she swallowed. No more 7am and 4pm feeding because the exercise became futile.

After a while, she became too weak to walk or play. I'd say to her, "You wanna go for a walk Bellee? Go for a walk?" but her ears would no longer perk up at the sound of the word. She would no longer "sit pretty," resting precariously on her hind legs with her front paws raised in the air, while I clasped the lease around her collar. Eventually, I had to carry her up and down the stairs for her to use the restroom because any excess of impact could irritate her hemangiosarcoma, causing her to bleed to death internally.

 I see now that the loss of my rituals were also the loss of hers'. Rituals are important to a dog. They operate as a cycle of expectation and fulfillment. She lost the expectation and the fulfillment followed. Knowing that she would soon die, I ceased the rituals of bathing, brushing, and clipping her nails. She detested these things. They made her feel helpless. I wanted her end days to contain the modicum of joy that had been relegated to her in her condition.

The only rituals that never ceased were the kiss goodbye and the late night cuddling. Each day before class, I continued to kiss her goodbye, and receive at least one lick on the cheek before I left. "One kiss, one kiss, Bellee," I'd repeat until I got that one half-hearted flick of the tongue. When she got home for surgery, and no entreaty would be rewarded with a kiss, I should have known that all hope was lost. Until her last day, Bel and I would continue to sleep together, her little body cuddled up between my legs. When she was in too fragile to be engulfed by my legs, I crawled to her spot on the bed and laid with my arm curved around her emaciated form. This is how we slept on the night before her death.

I sleep alone now. I get no kisses goodbye, and I'm no longer greeted with her gaze and a couple licks when I get home. For this reason, I've left my house once, and I don't want to return. All hope is gone. All rituals are lost. This is an initiation devoid of rituals.

The Scream and Run

I had a special guest presentation in my writing class today, and the guests spoke about Native American games. It was interesting to find that the games were not so concerned with competition and victory as our games today, but they were about social roles, memory, coordination, cooperation, mental acuity, visual recognition, and fitness. These speakers hinted at Native American mythology, and the role of games in their stories, but they unfortunately did not elaborate too much. One thing they mentioned was a race between man and buffalo to see who would populate the world. They did not name the winner, but it seems that it was a race of endurance, and man evidently won. In regard to endurance, they had us perform a game called the scream and run. This game involves screaming and running simultaneously while carrying a stick, and if either one activity stops, the game is over. It is used to develop stamina and lung capacity.

They suggest someone from class volunteer to do it across campus. Classes are just getting out, so a crowd of students flood the area in which we are convened. No volunteers. "See, this is why I said earlier that psychology is involved," the male guest speakers says. "We present this game to kids and they are all about it, but you college students are a little too cool, a little more reserved." A challenge. An initiation. I accept, grabbing the sharpened wooden stick and setting down my backpack. I start my sprint, screaming at the top of my lungs, running through groups of people turning their heads in amazement and disdain. They don't know what I'm doing. They don't know about the psychological barriers I'm deconstructing. After about 50 yards, my lungs give out, and I bring my run to a halt. I start back through the crowd, and hear someone say, "Yeah, you look like a faggot." It's a female voice. No chance to put the verbal assailant in her place. There would be no gain in the action anyway. These people who think and act like this are not my peers. Their opinions are of little consequence. It's unfortunate we live in this world in which ego is more important than initiation, though. I'm happy to have damaged my ego in participating in this initiation. I will be better because of it.

I get closer to my class congregation and I'm greeted by clapping and hollering. I feel a sense of pride, satisfaction, and unity. These are my peers.

Unity, Separation, and Transcendence

I was checking out Autumn's blog, looking at one of the repeating motifs in creation myths, and I read "The mother and father of the world being so close together that nothing can separate them (until their offspring do)." I noticed this motif in the presentations, but something about reading this, perhaps the way in which it is worded, sparked a revelation. I see in this passage an archetype that permeates history and is especially relevant today. I see an inseparable couple, rapturous and full of glee, who are transformed after childbirth. I think about my mom and dad separating, and I wonder how much my birth affected their once happy union. Is this an archetype derived from irrational fear or did it result from examining the changes in parents' relationships post-childbirth? Undoubtedly, the introduction of children complicates things. The love previously guaranteed to a single individual must then be allocated to multiple individuals. Attention is divided, and the parents' lives as they knew them are essentially over.
Maybe this isn't a bad thing, though. After all, in our creation myths, it is the separation of the parents that leads to eventual creation of the world. This can be applied to the individual. Maybe it is the separating ourselves from selfish desires and surrendering ourselves to something else that allows for something transcendent to occur.

Don Quixote, Ulysses, and Penelope

I'm reading this excerpt from Deceit, Desire, and the Novel and on the first page there is a quote from Miquel De Cervantes' Don Quixote. Don Quixote tells Sancho Panza that he strives to emulate the character of Amadis of Gaul, a man who Don Quixote regards as the model knight. He declares "whoever imitates him best will come closest to perfect chivalry." To emphasize this concept, he refers to Ulysses, stating that "the man who wishes to be known as careful and patient should and does imitate Ulysses." If I, in following this theory, chose to model my behavior after Ulysses, Greek mythology would truly be the precedent behind all my actions. However, I desire not to become patient and careful, so Ulysses would not be my model. I wonder if there are heroes who I would like to emulate, though. I've looked through the index of names in The Metamorphoses and I cannot find a single person who I'd wish to model my life after.  

The point Don Quixote makes is that these heroes are depicted "not as they are, but as they should be." This is essential because they are setting the standard for whatever sort of heroism they are meant to depict; the standard is unattainable, but exists as a compass. It seems Ovid depicts his characters as they are and that is perhaps why I find none who I wish to imitate.

Just a side note: I see that one who strives for carefulness and patience might also imitate Penelope. Her patience and carefulness are just as endearing as Ulysses', but her story is not laden with violence and adventure, so her tale is never told from a heroic standpoint. I think we are due for a modern retelling of the Odyssey from Penelope's perspective.

Lecture 8 Feb 2013

Storytime:
Review: Io turned into a cow and given to Juno who had Argos, the hundred-eyed monster, guard her
   -Mercury--the trickster, god of crossroads, messenger god, bringer of dead to the underworld,        carrier of the caduceus-- tells the monster a story to put him to sleep.
      -Crossroads = Psychopompos > Psyche = souls  Pompos= guide
   -Story within this story is the Pipes of Pan
      -there is a beautiful woman called Syrinx with a bird like voice who runs from Pan who pursues her eagerly
      -this parallels Apollo and Daphne
      -Syrinx transforms into a sheath of reeds which are the pipes when he seizes her
   -Argos falls asleep and Mercury chops off his head and his eyes become the eyes on the tail of a peacock
   -Io is changed back into a human and becomes a priestess of Isis


Actaeon: a 17 year old hunter and grandson of Cadmus walks into a cave in which Diana is bathing with her nymphs
-he looks upon a god, something one should not do, and Diana allows the gaze
-she then throws water on him that lands on his forehead, transforming him into a stagg
-he runs and his own hounds chase him down and tear him to pieces
-Diana is pleased

Theme: do not look upon that which mortal eyes are not meant to look upon

Callisto- Jove comes to Callisto as a woman resembling her goddess, Diana, and kisses her and proceeds to rape her.
-she becomes pregnant and is exiled from her virginity-valuing crew
-after giving birth to her son, Arcas, Juno transforms her into a bear as punishment
-Arcas, Lycaon's grandson, at the age of 15 finds her and throws a spear at her
-Jove shows mercy and puts them both in the stars before she is killed
-they become Ursa Major and Ursa Minor

Semele: daughter of Cadmus
-her and Jove have a mutual attraction to one another
-he presents himself to her as a dashing mortal man
-Juno, in the form of her nurse, convinces her to request that she can look upon him in all of his godly splendor
-he gives his oath before he knows the request and cannot go back on it
-she sees him and explodes but, pregnant, a baby (Bacchus) is seized and placed into the thigh of Jove

Theme: hubris is a sin; you cannot be as the gods; you cannot look upon that which only the gods can look upon
-this parallels Actaeon

Initiation

So strange we would discuss initiation yesterday. I am going through a bit of an initiation myself currently. I guess all matters between creation and death can be considered a process of initiation, but my current initiation is a little more ritualistic, a little more akin to the initiation practices of many Native American tribes and other cultures.
I'm writing a paper for one of my classes, and it has to be on a topic food-related for which I have personal experience. I don't have any exciting food-related experiences in my past, so I've decided to embark on a 7 day water fast.
I'm currently on day four of the fast, and it has been interesting to say the least. I've loosely modeled the fast by the Jainist ritual known as santhara. During this ritual, a Jainist will fast him or herself to death over the span of sometimes many years. This is not a suicide, but rather an acceptance of one's departure from the world. It acts as both karma control and a source of enlightenment.
I do not intend to fast myself to death, but the prospect of finding enlightenment--even a mere glimpse-- is fascinating. So far, I've solely experienced false yet ravenous hunger, lightheadedness, a cloudy mind, and surprise at my willpower. I have a few more days left, and I find stomach and mind conspiring against me, trying to convince me that I should eat, that there is nothing to accomplish here. At the very least, overcoming that aspect of myself will be rewarding, and at best I'll develop a new way of looking at the world.
My mind will occasionally lapse into space so bear with me this week.

Creation Myth Archetypes

The main patterns revealed from the presentations were just as Mircea Eliade stated in his introduction:

The earth diver, creation out of nothingness, division of an original unity, and dismemberment of a divine primordial being. Within these basic structures, there were many repeated concepts. Nothingness and water were the main things existence prior to anything else. This makes sense for the cultures who were physically surrounded by water in the regions from which they originate. Additionally, water oftentimes gives birth in some way to the creation. This is even evident in the primordial soup theory. There also seemed to be a fundamental belief that all things were once compressed into a unified chaotic force that expanded, or separated resulting in plurality. This was commonly accomplished either by a physical means or by things naturally becoming stratified due to weight or density. Certain elements that repeated were dancing, singing, snakes, man made out of dirt, life breathed into man, eggs, and floods. One common theme that I found to be most fascinating is “the fall of man” theme. There seems to be an inherent understanding across cultures that humans were once perfect and peaceful, but as a result of their own doing became corrupt as we are today. This is apparent even in Ovid’s ages of gold, silver, bronze, and iron. Related to this is the understanding that monkeys are very closely linked to humans as the degenerates of man. Our belief that we are closely linked to monkeys persists in our current understanding of evolution. There is something profound about these repeating patterns. I'll have to utilize my mythological detective clues to uncover the mystery.