Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Swirls



A swirl is not your friend
it walks beside you, but sometimes it is inside you
it makes you feel bad, useless, hopeless and lost....
it sucks you into a vortex of fear, or anger, or both.
It's like a virus, airborne, seeking a host body.
Sucked in, helpless in its grasp, you feel there's no escape,
and you are distressed and disturbed.
Is it something you've done, or not done.......do you feel ashamed?
Your head feels full of pressure and empty of thoughts,
feelings of dread fill you up.
You have to find your thoughts again. Where did they go?

Private property

Under private property ... Each tries to establish over the other an alien power, so as thereby to find satisfa­ction of his own selfish need. The increase in the quantity of objects is therefore accompa­nied by an extension of the realm of the alien powers to which man is subjected, and every new product represents a new potenti­ality of mutual swindling and mutual plunder­ing.
Marx, Human Require­ments and Division of Labour (1844)

Emptiness


No trace anywhere of life, you say, pah, no difficulty there, imagination not dead yet, yes, dead, good, imagination dead imagine. Islands, waters, azure, verdure, one glimpse and vanished, endlessly, omit. Till all white in the whiteness the rotunda. No way in, go in, measure. Diameter three feet, three feet from ground to summit of the vault. Two diameters at right angles AB CD divide the white ground into two semicircles ACB BDA. Lying on the ground two white bodies, each in its semicircle. White too the vault and the round wall eighteen inches high from which it springs. Go back out, a plain rotunda, all white in the whiteness, go back in, rap, solid throughout, a ring as in the imagination the ring of bone. The light that makes all so white no visible source, all shines with the same white shine, ground, wall, vault, bodies, no shadow. Strong heat, surfaces hot but not burning to the touch, bodies sweating. Go back out, move back, the little fabric vanishes, ascend, it vanishes, all white in the whiteness, descend, go back in. Emptiness, silence, heat, whiteness, wait, the light goes down, all grows dark together, ground, wall, vault, bodies, say twenty seconds, all the greys, the light goes out, all vanishes. At the same time the temperature goes down, to reach its minimum, say freezing-point, at the same instant that the black is reached, which may seem strange. Wait, more or less long, light and heat come back, all grows white and hot together, ground, wall, vault, bodies, say twenty seconds, all the greys, till the initial level is reached whence the fall began. More or less long, for there may intervene, experience shows, between end of fall and beginning of rise, pauses of varying length, from the fraction of the second to what would have seemed, in other times, other places, an eternity. Same remark for the other pause, between end of rise and beginning of fall. The extremes, as long as they last, are perfectly stable, which in the case of the temperature may seem strange, in the beginning. It is possible too, experience shows, for rise and fall to stop short at any point and mark a pause, more or less long, before resuming, or reversing, the rise now fall, the fall rise ,these in their turn to be completed, or to stop short and mark a pause, more or less long, before resuming, or again reversing, and so on, till finally one or the other extreme is reached. Such variations of rise and fall, combining in countless rhythms, commonly attend the passage from white and heat to black and cold, and vice versa.

Imagination Dead Imagine
by Samuel Beckett

It was not death

It was not death, for I stood up,
And all the dead lie down;
It was not night, for all the bells
Put out their tongues, for noon.
It was not frost, for on my flesh
I felt siroccos crawl,
Nor fire, for just my marble feet
Could keep a chancel cool.
And yet it tasted like them all;
The figures I have seen
Set orderly, for burial,
Reminded me of mine,
As if my life were shaven
And fitted to a frame,
And could not breathe without a key;
And I was like midnight, some,
When everything that ticked has stopped,
And space stares, all around,
Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,
Repeal the beating ground.
But most like chaos, stopless, cool,
Without a chance or spar,
Or even a report of land
To justify despair.
Emily Dickinson

Distributed sensorium

There is a homology between outside and inside. As one moves into a swirl, as one is sucked in by it, senses contract. The distribution of the sensorium becomes skewed. What this entails is the inability to draw on one's senses to provide information that would otherwise nullify the swirl. The result of the coerced withdrawal of the sensorium is invisibility.This is an experience of extreme diminishment.
There is an analagous process in the political sphere when certain groups are excluded from the political process, and become so diminished that they are invisible to the dominant group.

Here it can be

"Here it can be seen that solipsism, when its implications are followed out
strictly, coincides with pure realism. The self of solipsism shrinks to a point without
extension, and there remains the reality co-ordinated with it." Wittgenstein-Tracatus-5.64
When one is caught in a swirl, it seems as if there is no outside. Moreover it seems as if no one else exists. In which case the swirl experience is as Wittgenstein describes, utterly solipsistic. The individual in this situation fills out the world so that, no doubt unintentionally, all others have been extruded.

Where does the swirl come from?

One possibi­lity is an early childhood experience that lacked affirma­tion or expression of loving feelings.
If one cannot ask for what one needs (as a child) then thinking and feeling are badly affected. So the individual is sometimes forced into a space of minimal agency where it is hard to negotiate daily life. This means not having  one's own voice, instead always hearing someone else's real or imagined usually critical words.
Someone else holds the initiative and this feels shameful, and so leads to the swirl experience.

What is unique about the swirl?



Swirl is a metaphor to describe an existential mood state. It is a deeply unpleasant experience that borders on despair and anguish.
A Swirl is like a black hole; we fall into it or get sucked in. We feel overwhelmed by something stronger than ourselves.
When in this state, emotional paralysis takes over. We lose voice, agency and will. We feel diminished, and sure there is no escape.
It may pass, as moods do, or we may find our own way to overcome its sometimes devastating effect.
What is unique about the Swirl is that it denotes a range of distressing experiences that go together and relate to an internal physical, emotional and mental space which however may have dimensions and coordinates that we can begin to recognise.  Understanding them helps us to find a way to conquer it.