Personal Sovereignty, a little discussed yet seemingly crucial virtue is a common found cornerstone upon which empires, industries, and movements have been built. A man who finds himself adrift in a world swarming with opinions, lies, advertisements, and false logic must find within himself a territory known and ruled by that man alongside God himself.
Upon establishing such a place, and how one might go about doing so is a topic for another day, one finds himself at odds with the world itself. Ideological and combative, this man will perceive any inquisitor or contrarian an enemy. An enemy not only of his ideas, but of his deepest being. A knife to the core.
So then, what is right in regards to sovereignty? This is no easy question, and to find any semblance of an answer requires much nuance and flexibility. I have often made the mistake of conflating process and values. I think for instance, the scientific method, the Bible, or meditation might be my guiding lines. However, these various avenues are simply avenues, not values.
Values allow any assault to fall, any questions to be felted in an unemotional and level headed manner. If something is a true value, you hold to it because you have seen it’s merit in your life and installed it permanently. Things like humility, competitiveness, curiosity, and dedication are all examples of such values.
It is in these things a man must find sovereignty. Not in victory, discovery, or accomplishment. These are all beneficial outgrowths of properly set values to which a man must remain sovereign.
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“A bitter cucumber? Throw it away. Brambles on the path? Walk around them. That is sufficient. Do not go on to say: Why do such things exist in the world?”-Marcus Aurelius
Endings are hard. When stripped of the romantic, sensationalized pain, they’re just plain hard.
This has been a week of endings in my life. I graduated, two days after it was announced that my college was closing for good.
The ceremony was a strange mix of celebration, pain, and a strange and dissonant guilt. The endless congratulatory jargon which inevitably accompanies such an event passed for nothing more than misguided formalities. Words affirming our hard work and dedication only placed a greater emphasis on the injustice towards the hundreds of dedicated students with nothing to show for their work and even less of a plan to move forward.
There is an inevitable tendency in such situations to seek answers. As though the pain felt might be cured by some elusive explanation. This of course is ridiculous when placed on the table for examination.
Anger and strife often accompany difficulty. They have a subtle way of removing ones responsibility to act and instead lead one to try to explain. However, as I said earlier, this does no good.
It would seem when faced with insurmountable injustice and hardship, we are left only with one option. To act. Embrace that which is the only constant in our universe, change. Marcus Aurelius once said “Does man fear change? What can come to be without change? What is more dear or belongs more to the nature of the Whole? …Can you be fed, unless your nourishment undergo change? Can any other useful thing be done without change? Do you not see then that for you to be changed is precisely similar, and similarly necessary to the universal nature?”
There is a certain pretension which often accompanies the performance of Jazz. The music which was born out of brothels in the heart of New Orleans has seemingly climbed the social ladder into the domain of cultured white folks. American music’s backbone has become convoluted and obscured. I often wonder what Jazz was like when it was simply about enjoying the music, getting lost in the complex rhythm and harmony, and wasting simply passing the time. In a way, this show was my answer.
A moderate crowd comprised primarily of sweater toting old folks and bearded hipsters, turned up for the opening band. First Ave felt unusually relaxed, whether it was due to it being a Thursday night or the relatively mellow Kamasi Washington fans, I couldn’t say.
The opener PHO, consisting of two horns, two guitars, a bass and drums kicked off the night with a spry tune! Their timing was impeccable, which one might expect from a group of young white guys dressed like tech CEOs. Despite the tight tucked plads, PHO brought a perfect blend of precision, awe, and feel to the room!
After PHO had finished, seeing the room wasn’t terribly full, I decided give up my spot on the floor to take a quick walk around the block. Upon returning, I found First Ave packed to the gills. I had to keep reminding myself it was Thursday, I’d never seen such a weeknight crowd.
Having braved the cold MN fall, LA native Kamasi and his band entered the stage to a wild roar from the crowd. It became clear these weren’t polite folks out for and evening on the town, we were there for one reason, the music!
Clipping through the first song, it was clear the band, Kamasi, and the crowd were all on the same wavelength. Jazz fan or not, there was immense energy in simply watching the band interact musically and visually. When a musician would take a solo I would watch Kamasi’s face as he lost his head in the musical tug of war.
For the third tune, Kamasi invited his father out to play flute on a song he had written for his grandmother. Their chemistry was palpable both musically and personally. His father’s presence made the band seem even more familial. It was clear Kamasi holds a deep regard for his band and their sensibilities.
With each song, the room fell deeper in sync with Kamasi. Many artist attempt to portray an air of superiority or meteque while on stage. For Kamasi however, music was simply his gift to us. A mutually enjoyed experience.
Kamasi came to First Ave touring his newly released EP “The Harmony of Difference”. I am often hesitant to look for tangible meaning in instrumental music. I much prefer to enjoy the sounds without attaching any underlying meaning. That said, Kamasi’s compositions and the band’s improvisation perfectly encapsulated the idea of harmony stemming from difference.
Not just any difference. Specifically, the brand of difference which realizes we are in no way the same, often times not even similar. But we all share the common experience of being human. Thursday’s performance was an example of music born free of ego, and pride. Music which exists in a space not created, but simply experienced.
Forgoing much of the meaningless between song banter, Kamasi simply told the room something like “diversity isn’t a nice thing we should do, it’s one of the most beautiful things in in the world.” Non political, non judgmental, and concise.
People often tell me music is getting worse, “the 20s, the 70s, or the 80s. Those were the golden years.” The passing of time naturally filters the superfluous permitting only the best of music to last. On top of this, nostalgia often favorably distorts that which is in the past. Time is the ultimate judge of meaning and significance.
All this considered, this was a rare opportunity to be a part of a now flourishing niche. In recent years Los Angeles has produced a plethora of outstanding jazz, hip hop, and fusion players. It might be an overstep to call it the Motown of hip hop, but comparisons can certainly be drawn. I, in fact, first found Kamasi by his work with Kendrick Lamar, Thundercat, and Flying Lotus.
I’ve been waiting for a while now. Waiting for truth to fracture my concept of faith. Waiting for God to show himself. I didn’t seek answers, I just waited. I didn’t want to delude myself as so many do, but I didn’t want to loose myself ether. Ultimately, I was afraid I was condemned to live the remainder of this momentary existence as a confused, unanchored cell.
I thought seriously about the efficiency of lying to myself. Allowing myself to rest in blissful ignorance. Everyone else seems to. They seem ok. But part of me knew I never could. I was like Truman standing on the edge of the horizon while my subconscious gentility reasoned me into turning back. But how? I now saw it for what it was, fake. Or at least most of it. Regardless, delusion wasn’t an option.
I considered turning away from my faith. I’d rather live in a real world I deeply disliked than a world I knew to be false. So long as that real world was honest with me.
I had resolved however, to wait. Wait for God to show himself. Or wait for the God I knew as a child slowly decompose into the cold earth. The earth of reason and honesty. A world devoid of infinite love. A world of fact and the occasional false warmth of human connection. A world where God was a nice idea for the undiscerning.
I wish I could rely on the popular cliche and say “something deep in me knew there was a god.” But instead, all I found was deep dissonance. An unsayable absence. Truthfully, a bit of fear.
Was I becoming too comfortable in the world? Was my small brain becoming lost in the noise? Was I not reading the Bible enough? Was I the only one seeing this?
At the beginning of September, my lovely friend Destiny and her fiance James came to Minneapolis to visit me. Both raised in the faith. Both fluent in “Christianese”. Late one night, after the house was asleep, James and I got to talking about our faith.
I remember at some point in the conversation saying, “This is crazy, what we believe is crazy.” I was fully anticipating a look of surprise, or maybe some subtle reassurance of God’s existence. But instead I saw a look of deep understanding. We talked for hours that night regarding our doubts and fears. This was no longer my battle.
I tried talking with other christian friends about this doubt I was having. Meanwhile reassuring them and myself with “I’m not saying I don’t believe, but…” I would watch as they internally defended their faith against these blasphemous ideas.
One of the few people who truly seemed to understand was my youth pastor Brian. After a long chat, he recommended I check out the work of Science Mike, a writer and podcaster. After listening to Mike for a few episodes, I began to feel as though my wait was drawing to an end. And it wasn’t God raining fire down from heaven or speaking through the clouds. It was much more nuanced than that.
It was simply the revelation that God isn’t beholden to a church, a book, or theology. That instead, all these things are simply flawed expressions and interpretations what is simply infinite love and intelligence. The God worshiped in church, prayed to for centuries and talked about in the Bible, is again, just a human construct of something infinite.
Let me be clear, in no way were my questions answered. Instead, I was simply allowed to ask them. Ask them of God, myself and the world. I was allowed to find the flaws in theology, the church and even the Bible without offending or disproving God.
I don’t anticipate finding answers to these deep questions I still have. Instead, simply to ask better questions and expect of God and myself to reply honestly.
Leadership from the perspective from “The Art of War”.
“Let it be a matter of indifference whether you are cold or warm while doing what is fitting, whether you are nodding with sleep or have had your fill, whether men speak ill or well of you, whether you are dying or doing something else. For death too is one of the actions of life, and we die as we preform it. Therefore, even when dying, it is sufficient that one’s present task is well fulfilled.”-Marcus Aurelius
Marcus has this way of touching each moment of life in a few short sentences. This short verse form Meditations carries such weight and conviction. I have been thinking a lot about purpose lately. Considering what is universal and what is private. Where do my intentions, or intended intentions connect whether consciously or subconsciously with those of my fellow humans.
However, I’ll leave that discussion up to a future post. For now I simply wish to examine the power of indifference. In a world that has always been filled with highly emotional and illogical beings, true indifference is difficult to find. In fact, many find it an undesirable trait. Indifference might conjure an image of a rock weathering a storm, or a cow standing in the rain. Seemingly un swayed by its surroundings.
Although admirable to most, this quality of unwavering stoicism is not a virtue many seek. Quite fairly in fact! Who wants to be a cow standing in the rain?
The important idea of this verse however, isn’t indifference toward complete pain and suffering, it instead is a matter of prioritizing what “is fitting” over what is easy.. It is removing oneself from your personal inhibitions and survival instinct and giving something back.
To take an even wider look at it, this simple verse is about all one can do in this life. We lack the tact impress our morals upon others. We lack the resources to impact global change. We lack the drive to create the unthinkable. But we mustn’t lack the inner strength to CHOOSE indifference toward our personal preferences and give away all we can. We must choose to relinquish our right to offense. For we are in fact, infinitely insignificant.
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