Showing posts with label Practice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Practice. Show all posts

Tuesday, 28 April 2015

Seeing isn’t believing, after all ...


 
We say that ‘seeing is believing’, but it isn’t. In a long tradition, many films and dramas use the theme of different witnesses’ interpretations of the same event, sometimes called the ‘Rashomon effect’ after Kurosawa’s film of that name. Vantage Point (2008) directed by Pete Travis, is a good example. Here the assassination of a US president is seen from seven different perspectives, progressively unravelling the real nature of the event. The film literally winds back the action again and again for each witness account to be shown, all restarting from the same departure point.

I found myself thinking about such ‘subjectivity of perception’ this week as a number of articles and reports came together to demonstrate the paucity of digital experience compared with written and read media. The psychiatrist Iain McGilchrist, in an interview with The Telegraph, warns that: ‘Children struggle to read emotions and are less empathetic than a generation ago because they spend too much time using tablets and smartphones.’ He went on, ‘Children spend more time engaging with machines and with virtual reality than they used to in the past where they don’t have to face the consequences of real life. In virtual environments they don’t have to interpret the subtle cues of real-life environments …’

This is a convincing angle on the limited quality of virtual experience as opposed to ‘real’ experience. Such limited and limiting perception is becoming an increasingly common feature of social activities almost universally. It’s all too common nowadays to see tourists arrive in some monumental and significant place and, instead of using their eyes to see, immediately lift their cameras or iPads to record what is before them. The true visual experience is lost. Here again, as McGilchrist puts it ‘the subtle cues of real-life environments ….’ are left out of the act of perception.

But, as we see all around us, the unthinking (unseeing?) activities of tourists pale beside the daily obsession with smartphones that we find in groups of youngsters. Connected as they are digitally, they barely need to look up and absorb the presence of their friends around them.

 In a related comment from another angle, the writer MarioVargas Llosa, in an interview with Antonio Caño, the director of the Spanish newspaper El País, goes so far as to say that ‘if the world continues the process which leads to the written word being replaced by the image and the audiovisual, we run the risk that freedom, the capacity to reflect and imagine will disappear along with other institutions like democracy.’

“Si el mundo sigue el proceso en el que la palabra escrita es reemplazada por la imagen y lo audiovisual, se corre el riesgo de que desaparezca la libertad, la capacidad de reflexionar e imaginar y otras instituciones como la democracia”, advirtió ayer Mario Vargas Llosa en conversación con Antonio Caño, director de EL PAÍS.

He considers that ‘the word that is read, language that is communicated through print, has an effect in the brain which complements and completes what is read.’ He goes on, ‘images don’t produce the same mechanism of transformation. In reading, there is a creative and intellectual effort which is barely present in the visual.’

La advertencia la hace al considerar que la palabra leída, el lenguaje comunicado de manera impresa, tiene un efecto en el cerebro que completa y complementa lo leído. En cambio, el autor de Conversación en La Catedral, afirmó que “las imágenes no producen el mismo mecanismo de transformación. En la lectura hay un esfuerzo creativo e intelectual que casi se elimina con lo visual”.

This statement may seem to deny the great visual arts their power, but clearly this isn’t what Vargas Llosa is referring to. Along with the poverty of the smartphone event, often goes low quality of the visual or audio material, inviting no creative effort at all.

We come back to the quality of true perception as opposed to vision, remembering William Blake. ‘A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees.’ The poet sees with an eye that captures multidimensional layers of experience, just as a gifted visual artist does. Such direct forms of knowledge, for that is what it is, namely ‘knowing’ the object, are irreproducible except through the channels that allow them to come alive again in the perception of another person. As T S Eliot summed it up, there is the event of seeing, the event of writing the poem about what is seen, and the event of the reader recreating what was seen in their own mind.

In such a refined event of reading and recreating come together the ‘creative and intellectual effort’ of which Vargas Llosa speaks, and ‘the subtle cues of real-life environments’ held up by McGilchrist.

Young people need the full range of such experiences to allow their emotional and intellectual lives to flourish. In which case they will become more and more sensitive to the profound difference between seeing and believing.

CJM 4/2015







Saturday, 9 April 2011

The antidote to turbulence: standing still

As World Tai Chi/Chi Kung Day approaches again (April 30), a moment to reflect on standing still.

One might find the above title a statement of the obvious. But it's the kind of 'obvious' that you come to only after a long period of searching, and then, as in the famous T.S. Eliot quote, you see where you started from 'for the first time.'

In practice -- and here I really am talking about practice, daily practice -- there are many different ways of making standing still a regular part of your life. For instance, a friend of this blog speaks eloquently of 'quiet sitting'. The habit of pausing in the rush of life to stop and actually 'look' at something is a kind of standing still in miniature. I tried to express this a while back in an article for the International Herald Tribune (2005/8/12), as a reflection on the 'potatiness of potatoes' and, in its essence, the very heart of poetry.

The particular standing still I'm concerned with here is a chi kung practice known informally as 'hugging a tree', more formally as zhan zhuang, and associated with the teaching of Master Lam Kam-Chuen. Master Lam insists that it is not a meditation, and indeed one shouldn't try to 'meditate' while doing it. If done correctly, your body will find the right posture for itself and the benefits will flow, literally, for the whole exercise is about promoting the flow of chi --  essential energy -- in and around the body.

For those sceptics who find it hard to recognise the presence of a force which modern science cannot capture and measure, I can assure them I don't need science to prove the sensations of energy experienced in doing this practice. Any practitioner of chi kung or tai chi can vouch for its awakening of a force field in your hands and limbs, with a feeling of electrical flow and a tangible sense of compression between the hands especially. Followers of the Stévanovitch method, La Voie Intérieure, begin by sensitising themselves to the movement of chi from the central energy point of the body, the dan tien.

My own practice of tai chi is now Chen style, where I have had the good fortune to follow seminars given by the grand master Chen Xiaowang during his visits to Europe. Chen Xiaowang starts each session with fifteen or twenty minutes of standing still, after which comes the practice of the form. There is no doubt that from this short period of 'grounding' arises a more conscious and deliberate activity in the movements of the form itself.

There are various obstacles to the successful practice of zhan zhuang. The first is its utter simplicity, and therefore the modern mind with its thirty-second attention span finds it hard to embrace extended inactivity in a disciplined way, and least of all as a regular practice. Another is that you have to be very centred on your own body and work through the various tensions that emerge as you extend the period of practice.
 
As an antidote to turbulence, nothing better than standing still could be recommended, surely? And if this quiet and undramatic practice is a personal path to good health and a strong and balanced body, as Master Lam says in his smiling and relaxed way, "What could be more important?"

CJM
PS. For more on tai chi and its history, see my IHT article.(2006/06/05)