Before
revisiting the writing from this day ten years ago --…in what sense ‘return’,
really? Yes, of course returning to the
words written on 11/18/04 that were printed and placed within the second of two
binders where I dutifully placed each day the writing I’d completed. Yes, returning to those words…but those
words, as Augustine, who has been my principal interlocutor the past two weeks,
would say, have always already been there
in some way, and have most certainly remained with me, in memory, every moment
since 11/18/04 when I composed them. To
recognize – yes recognize -- the somewhat veiled presence of scribed ideas from
the past in the present is to acknowledge that the vast and seemingly infinite
place that is memory is a location where
chronological time is bent and perhaps even broken. Past exists in present, and present is made real by past, and nowhere is this
more evident than when I am returning to material I have been teaching for
years while revisiting writing/thinking that happened a decade ago. Suddenly what has been written appears to be
a moment, in some cases at the beginning and some cases along the way, in a span
of moments that bridge the thinking/writing, teaching and learning of this day with all that has happened before.
And this is not to say all that has happened before has lead up to this day, but rather that on this day, in the time when I am
revisiting what has happened before I
recognize the before as as it were
being disclosed to me for the first time on this
day. As the song says, “I had one of
those flashes I’d been there before” – although the same song says, “It seldom
turns out the way it does in the song”!
The
prompt for the preceding is the discussion today of my Palabras Entre Nosotros in my HUHC C&E sections. These discussion marked the final day in the Late to Love pedagogical experiment, the
first ever attempt to study the album (music and lyrics) along with the Palabras I wrote that appear in between
the song lyrics and/or song titles.
There was certainly something exciting in the novelty and dare I say
natality of this attempt that I suspect will be the first of many to come. Today’s attempt prompted me to meditate about
memory and the presence of past thinking/writing/teaching/learning. My students responses to the Palabras disclosed to me the presence of
thinking in that writing that I had been unaware of when I wrote those
pieces. And in doing this they enacted
the very technē that
Rocha called them to when he described in his film (and via his film) his
strange way of not responding, or his indirect way of responding, to the
questions they had posed in response to the music and lyrics of Late to Love. It was that he was relinquishing his
responsibility, but, rather, calling them to their ability to respond, to their response-ability. Unbeknownst to my students they enacted
their response-ability with the questions they raised after reading and
discussing in groups my Palabras. That is, they took up the unique τέχνη
(technē)
of learning that I’ve been describing in this blog, the one that insists that
learning is always about making something with that which exceeds the given. If, as I wrote a month ago in response to
Frank Margonis’ question to me in Memphis, the soul stands for what is always
in excess, then the τέχνη
(technē)
of learning is soulful work, it is spiritual work of the learning community,
the actualization of koinonia.
An
example of the soulful and spiritual work that happened in my classes today is
the following response to one of my Palabras.
(first the question Palabras then the question is elicited:
5.
Genesis
Time
[PALABRAS ENTRE NOSOTROS:
]
All is given.
What’s
up? What’s going down? What’s going on? What gives?
It gives. “Es gibt.”
“Es gibt” is German. “Es gibt” can be said equally applicably of
anything and everything. Estar is Spanish. Being? Existence?
Anything? Everything? Perhaps, if we think of the “es” (the “It” which
gives).
All is given. All is present. All is presence.
If All is present, is All presented?
What gives continues to give, and is a
ceaseless nativity, an eternally recurring beginning. To further denote ceaseless nativity we can
play with the word ‘giving’ and ‘gift’ and say ‘presenting.’ But this doesn’t capture the offering made with the given, with the
Giving.
All is given for us and to us and we still decide what to do with it, with the Giving.
All
is not given per se. We can arrive later than too late. Or we can never arrive at all. We can get lost in the labyrinth of choices,
and exhaust ourselves at one too many dead ends. Or we can receive the offering, and pass it
along. We can re-present the Giver in the time of music-making. We can say Yes! (Si, se puede!)
Genesis
Time Palabras Entre Nosotros
In
this Palabras you wrote that
"All" being present and that "It" is always present. If
"All" is always present how can one possibly be late or never arrive
to "It" if "All" is always present?"
-Chris, Becca and Jim
Upon
first glance it may appear as if my students were raising a relatively
straightforward question, but this is description is only accurate to the
extent that it could only have emerged from the context of our ongoing
engagement with fundamental ontological questions. While it’s reasonable to suspect a careful
reader could articulate such a question, it’s not unreasonable to suspect they
would not have ready to hand the philosophical sensibilities, temperament, and
driving concerns of the author of the Palabras,
who also happens to be the professor who assigned them. Does this discount the claim made by one
student that the Palabras are an
attempt to communicate globally the localized roots of the music? Perhaps, and most likely, especially if the
principle that inspires the Palabras
is the one that is captured in the aesthetic of Schumacher’s “small is
beautiful.” This principle is expressed
in the Palabras as el pueblecito, which is already the
largest possible iteration of the learning community. The question concerning arriving late is
thus only ever a question that can be raised when we come to a work after its
completion, which happens when we pick up and read ‘It’ (as the voice
instructed Augustine to do), or we listen to music that has been recorded, or
confront a work of art, or, as all meditative thinkers have done, contemplate
ourselves and Being. And with any and
all of these belated encounters what allows for the disclosure of truth is the
fact of our immediate local situation.
The effacement with the real happens here
and now, which is why the questions raised by my students could only be
raised by them, and could only
disclose the truth because they were taken up by us together, today.
Let
me be clear: the preceding is emphasizing that the reality (the truth) of any
thing that is taken up by thinking is disclosed in the facticity of the
present. All is given insists that when
we take up Augustine’s Confessions we
are not taking up an artifact or a fossil but the confessions of Augustine,
which, because of their form and content, do more than most to teach us about
the ontology of excess and what is always already offering itself up for
learning.
[…--during dinner at the Grey Dog Café, my usual
spot on 16th and 7th Avenue, Chelsea // join me for me for a meal, drinks
and dialogue most Tuesdays 5:45pm \\ Matt Hastings says, “I can’t imagine talking
about education other than as the local, or in terms of immediacy, of
community, it’s happening here and now! -- mind you, this was totally unprompted,
spontaneous….what it? Consider the above from today’s commentary…and, full
disclosure, my response to the introduction of ‘democracy’ to our conversation
by Matt…and my response about…well, the above…the immediate localization of the
learning community…and, now, here, in this moment, the recognition and
affirmation that philosophy is always happening in the travelling or what
Aristotle calls the moving Now! --…]
By
the end of this day, now concluding on the packed to the rafters NJT train,
post GD feast (food, drink and soulful words) the meditation from 11/19/04
needs little commentary beyond what I have already written. The writing has a kind of retrospective
quality to it, making an attempt to make some sweeping and even synthetic descriptions
of the learning community and the dialogic work that forms it, brings it into
being. “We have offered the name
‘learning community’ for that forge-ing of the common world through poetic
dialogue. This dialogue, which forges community, arises from the prior
commitment to friendship that is itself the outward appearance of the original
dispensation appearing with the implicit supplication. The learning community can thus be understood
as co-arising with the dialogic event, so that ‘learning’ and ‘community’ identify a compound term that denotes the
quality of the dialogic. Our point here
is to reiterate the learning event as arising from the ground of the originary
dispensation. The learning community
arises as the appearance of that well spring, that original source…Learning
appears, ultimately, as the re-issuing of the originary dispensation.”(BL
)
The
preceding is a demonstration of a session of writing/thinking that is nothing
more nor less than a retrieval of what I have come to understand this semester
as one of the oldest conventions of writing: didactic repetition. But I need to be clear that here I am
attempting to move into what Schürmann describes as the ‘retrospective’
modality of originary thinking: a retrieval of the ancient source of didactic
repetition, didaktikos, from didaskein ‘teach’. And what is also important to remind myself,
first, and my reader, second, is that this teaching is an instruction to
myself, the τέχνη
(technē)
of the autodidact, which is not unlike a practicing
of scales, or rudiments, that is, working out my chops in anticipation and
preparation for the next thinking/teaching/learning event. The writing is only ever reflections on and
descriptions of actual occurrences of the work of the learning community. If the writing/thinking here is a return to
the original meditations it also at the same time a return to the original
source of those meditations, which is to say, a returning of that original source.
The koinonia that gathered me
together with students in 2004 remains the same koinonia that gathers me in
2014. This is one way of describing the
didactic repetition, and if that is the case then the repetition happening in
the original meditations is a mimetic repetition of that ongoing return of koinonia. But, curiously, 2.0, has been an attempt to
break from the logic of the eternal recurrence and, as much as possible, has
resisted that peculiar force, which I sense is a deep internalization of the
dominant norms of academia, to be ‘progressing’ towards some telos, whether or not that end is
understood in advance or not. 2.0 has been an attempt to exorcize those
demons and, as much as possible, correct the error of proceeding as if moving
towards an end, and thereby to avoid the trap of the thema probandum.
3.0b (another echo heard in "LEARN"): Nietzsche’s Zarathustra offers one of his speeches on board a ship, where he has remained silent for two days. When he breaks his silence, he recounts the tale of his encounter with the Moment. Directing the sailors to listen attentively to the one who has broken his silence Zarathustra says, “He that has ears to hear, let him hear!” (TSZ, 157) He then goes on to tell them of the time when he encountered a gateway. “Behold this gateway…It has two faces. Two paths meet here; no one has yet followed either to its end. This long lane stretches back for an eternity. And the long lane out there, that is another eternity. They contradict each other…and it is here at this gateway that they come together. The name of the gateway is inscribed above: ‘Moment’...Behold, [he continued], this moment! From this gateway, Moment, a long, eternal lane leads backward: behind us lies an eternity. Must not whatever can happen have happened, have been done, have passed before?...Must not this gateway too have been there before? And are not all things knotted together so firmly that this moment draws after it all that is to come? Therefore -- itself too? For whatever can walk -- in this long lane out there too, it must walk once more.” (TSZ, 158)
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