Tuesday, April 4, 2017

The Logic of Running Water

    In her book Longing for Running Water (1999), Ivone Gabara remarks, "we cannot absolutize our present way of knowing; rather, we need to admit its historical and provisional character and the importance of always being open to new referents that history--and life in general--will propose." (p.61). In a sense, I view this statement as 'turning the view of truth' upside down, by exposing and questioning the view that life unfolds according to a truth 'blueprint'. Rather than seeing the truth as something that stands over and above experience, Gabara is viewing the truth of our lives as something that is always unfolding through an openness to direct encounter. To embrace this truth is almost to let go of the existing quest for a unified 'reference point' where truth can be found. However, paradoxically, it's through the reiteration of these immanent experiences that a person can discern the patterns of life, and learn to sail along those patterns rather than trying to resist them or go against them. It's not that, under this historicist view, the world becomes a rudderless place to be in. Rather, there is almost a sense that wisdom goes along the grain of experience itself to trace its patterns, whereas 'knowledge' tries to brand a pattern or a model on top of experience, in the hopes that there are no inconvenient truths lurking in the distance to mar that 'pillar' of truth.
   This afternoon during my work break, I reflected on how there are times when things 'make sense' and there are other times when knowing somehow needs to ripen, similar to the fruits in a field. I can never force myself to 'know' what I simply don't know in the moment, but there are times when the most I can do is watch closely for patterns and similarities across experiences to discern how they are similar.  It's the 'stuck' moments of not knowing that are truly valuable here, because they teach a person how to let go of their temporary blueprints for seeing the world, and thereby trace the more subtle patterns in the landscape of one's being in the world. I use one example of the weather: however much I can plan for the picnic, the weather is one thing that is not only beyond my control but which often overrides all my intentions and planning. Like the weather, there are days when things just don't feel like they are meant to go according to any plan. In those instances, one can only do what can be done and wait for causes and conditions to ripen. In other words, there is often no sense in over-planning something for which the causes simply haven't arisen yet. In those days, one has to learn not to be afraid of whatever seems to be missing. Rather, it is best to use that unknowing to gain a deeper insight into how things work in life. There is a difference between 'uncovered' and 'revealed'. The former comes from the metaphor of archaeology, which often symbolizes our understanding of discovery based truth. Revelation, on the other hand, is more holistic: truth is revealed when the whole universe is ready and able to reveal it. Why try to 'pry open' or 'dig out' the truth when it's not yet ready to be dug out or pried open? To see this rather than trying to use force is to acquire an appreciation of the subtle patterns and rhythms that accompany knowing: seeing knowing as a process that is not entirely controlled by the will, let alone ever completed by the will.




Gebara, Ivone (1999), Longing for Running Water: Ecofeminism and Liberation. Minneapolis: Metropolis Press

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