To start off, I'm going to acknowledge my bias. I like Prechtel. I like his story. I like his way of thinking. He seems like the type of guy somebody might pick to have dinner with when people ask, "If you could have dinner with anyone in the world, dead or alive, who would you pick?"
If it makes any difference, I listened to the audio first. His way of thinking was roundabout, but sensible. What he said about grief and praise being the same thing seemed so paradoxical and yet so simple. It was beautiful, eloquent. I'm sure some spirits fed well on that 5:oo minute clip. What was most striking to me was the everything matters attitude he held. We must be aware of our own mortality to appreciate that which we have - if we believe we'll live forever, we are never satisfied, as we are always seeking out the next best thing. Because our lives are finite, everything matters, and some things matter more than others. The Mayans lived their lives on highs and lows, bringing the stakes of their everyday lives up and up until anything worth praising was worth it because without the good the praise worthy were doing, the world would shatter. This makes our mindset feel so...trivial. The things we praise are not worthy of praise, because we praise for self-preservation or self-promotion. Instead of trying to accept grief and pain and loss into our lives as the healthy states they are, we fight them, marginalize them, rationalize them away. Without one, we cannot appreciate the other. It reminds me very much of the saying, "The opposite of love isn't hate. It is indifference." The Mayans lived passionately, from the sounds of Prechtel, while modernists live indifferently, fighting for permanent balance over equilibrium.
In Jensen's essay, I couldn't help but be reminded of His Dark Materials, by Philip Pullman. The other world, the ghosts eating the lives of people, the spirits, debt. It reminds me of Spectors and Dust and harpies. I found it curious exactly how much Prechtel's responses reminded me of these books. I also found the concept of a language without to be intriguing. We rely so much on to be to determine who we are. It defines us. It separates us. Since language builds the world, how different might things be without to be? There might be more community, as we couldn't be anything other than what is around us. We would be defined not by what we did or who we were, but by that with which we surrounded ourselves.
Prechtel's words make sense. The part about the Mayan huts reminded me of eaarth and Bill McKibben. We no longer help each other, so we are unable to act as neighbors to each other, we cannot connect. The part about oral tradition and a sense of place reminds me of the entire last unit. The part about cutting out the natural part of ourselves to fit within the rational, logical, science-based box of modern society reminds me of Jensen and some of the other essays we've read. Prechtel's way of viewing the Earth and the relationships of the Earth work within the parameters that are laid out - they fit the issues the world is facing, offer explanation. I find myself believing I need to find my ancestors and properly mourn them. Why not? It makes as much sense as any other options. Maybe that's the beauty in it. Mayan spiritual beliefs answer as many questions as science or religion. They should have just as good a shot in fixing our problems, right?
** I apologize for the poor nature of the piece. Stream of consciousness is never my best work. I need to practice more. I also hate that there is no "no high lite' option in Blogger. Thanks Google.
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