Crashing waves don’t pose. Less pose, more flow.
by Jerry Katz
The cigar holds an essence of nature that is released in the smoke. This essence resonates with the most essential part of what I am. That resonance is what I feel, enjoy, and contemplate as a smoke.
Nonduality means not-two and refers to non-separateness as the nature of reality.
Cigar smoking reveals there is no separation between the natural world and myself.
At age 13 I started to smell an earthy, sweet, even ambrosial scent, the aroma of an inner distillation. When it was most strong I would ask my parents, brothers, friends, whoever was in the room with me, “Do you smell that? What is that?”
No one ever smelled it. The occasional flood of inner liquor lasted for several weeks. Its deliciousness made me happy and delightfully spirited about being alive. It was more than an aroma or taste. It was a deeply interior elixir, more like an initiation into a secret of the natural world, the secret of non-separation.
In later years that nectar-like aroma would be re-discovered.
I’ve always had a fascination with cigars. In my early 20s I lived and worked in Santa Monica, California, home of the Tinder Box owned by Ed Kolpin. I was a regular customer, trying various cigar brands and enjoying almost everything.
One day in the mid-1970s I was standing in the Tinder Box humidor, eyeing the varieties of cigars, when Ed walked in and told me about some cigars that had just arrived. He was excited to tell me they were Cubans that had been warehoused in Florida in anticipation of the embargo at that time, 1960. I don’t know if the term “pre-embargo Cubans” had yet been invented.
It was an expensive cigar, 65 cents, but his enthusiasm sold me and I bought one of the Armas del Casa pre-embargo Cubans. I was always one to enjoy smoking while driving. I got into my 1969 Dodge Charger and lit up an Armas del Casa. After a few puffs, I had recognized something.
That nectar-like aroma/feel; that inner liquor of happiness: What was it doing in a cigar? The next day I went back to the Tinder Box and bought a box of Armas del Casa. Almost every cigar presented the nectar-like remembrance, some quite strongly. Over the next few months I bought perhaps another ten boxes, one at a time. Back then I smoked two cigars a day.
I have never again found the elixir in any other cigar, Cuban or otherwise. Yet I can taste the elements of the nectar in almost any cigar, and within those elements I find the remembrance that I am not separate from nature. Nature is what I am. In my world view, the nectar is an expression of the sap of the tree of life, which is the tree of all life, all existence.
A cigar is a connection with the eternal, unspeakable, smokable sacredness of everything that exists.
Nova Scotia coastal views in January. Photographs by Jerry Katz.
If, in any painting or photograph, a person is depicted as very small within a wide space of nature, there is a possibility that the viewer will recognize that small form as one’s self and that this self is not separate from the vast space. That is to say, such a picture may inspire the realization that one is the vast space itself. When it is recognized that the vast space contains the form and that one is both the vast space and the form — at the same time — this is a realization of nonduality.
I feel that in the company of something true, a sadness could arise for all the time and energy spent — not only by one’s self, but by the multitudes — pursuing something false. Yet because it arises in the company of truth, it is sweetened by compassion, the seeing of which evokes another level of tears, and other qualities of sadness as well. In Zen, the term loneliness is used more often than sadness; they seem equivalent to some degree. You can look up sadness and Zen or loneliness and Zen and find different kinds of writings. Some of the writings refer to personal psychological sadness. However, I’m talking sadness that involves existence. I have not considered all the possible shades of sadness, so please offer your own in a comment.
Haiku, Japanese and Chinese painting, calligraphy, and the writings of Kerouac are some of the strongest influences in my creating these photographs. I believe the best art and writing takes from nature and gives back as nature distilled into something we recognize as our fundamental true self.
the drawing contest
comes to a close
i’m tired of it
although my fame has spread across the land
i know myself as a pebble
whose curve will never be followed
by the artist’s hand
i climb into my boat
and row through a clump of rushes
to my small house
on the other side of the lake
[This poem carries the influences of the Chinese poet Tu Fu and the Japanese poet Basho, blended, one reflecting the other like green leaves reflecting darkly in still water.]
I was looking at a world map. The “free” countries were coloured green. The “partly free” countries orange. And the “not free” countries red.
Mapping my brain I see a pattern as splotchy and colourful as the map. I am both the good guys and the bad guys.
All the while death – I myself – awaits like a stalking cobra.
the blank canvas is the artist as nothing
form is the artist as everything
a painter bestows form upon blank canvas
a photographer bestows blank canvas upon form
with presence of both form and blank canvas
a work of art could happen
I asked them, “To where?”
They answered, “Nowhere.”
nothing in its place
nothing out of place
The purpose is to show how some of the writings of architect Christopher Alexander bear on nonduality.
The fundamental message is that architects who work from realization of their true nature could build structures that inspire realization of true nature.
Nonduality means non-separation, which refers to all things being the same at some level of understanding, while retaining their individuality. A classic metaphor pointing to nondual reality is that of the wave and ocean. Though each wave is unique, each one is the substance of the ocean and not separate from the ocean itself: Nonduality, non-separation.
photo by Jerry Katz
What is the “I”?
Christopher Alexander’s term for what is the same and unchanging in reality, is the “I”. The “I” is Christopher Alexander’s most common term for one’s essential being or true nature, although he also uses other terms, such as
“eternal self” (Alexander, 2004, p. 40),
“ground of all things” (Alexander, 2004, p. 47),
“Self” (Alexander, 2004),
“substrate of the universe . . . the origin of who and what we are” (Alexander, 2016), “true childish heart” (Alexander, 2004, p. 5),
“true self” (Alexander, 2004, p. 52),
“ground of the universe” (Alexander, 2004, p. 35),
“the Void, the great Self, maha-Atman, God, the Friend” (Alexander, 2004, p. 35),
“‘a something’ which lies in me and beyond me” (Alexander, 2004, p. 37).
The term “I” has been given terms by prominent teachers, for example, “awareness of being aware” (Spira, 2015), “essential being” (Spira, 2015), “God” (Ramana Maharshi, 1989, p. 550), “I am” (Nisargadatta Maharaj, 1993, p. 13).
The need to experience the “I.” The role of nonduality
Christopher Alexander’s work is characterized by persistently and passionately speaking about the need to experience in one’s self what he calls the “I” (Alexander, 2004) and to intentionally create buildings and structures that are founded in the realization of the “I” and which in turn inspire the realization, or at least the sense, intuition, or feeling of the “I” in those who experience the built structures.
[The “I”] is a part of the human being which exists already, and is available to us. . . . It is that which makes [art and architecture] powerful, which makes it useful. And this self — or “I” — is the core of every living structure (Alexander, 2004, p. 40).
Speaking to people in today’s world, Alexander says, “Our own way of making a connection to the “I,” must be … rooted in truth consistent with the 21st century” (Alexander, 2004, p. 44) . . . “Something that would virtually have to be a new faith for our time must be found: some modern way in which we can make — for our time — a realistic and satisfying connection with the I” (Alexander, 2004, p. 45).
The True Meaning of Science and Spirituality: The existence of this entity I call the “I” can be confirmed by experience, and it will — I believe — one day become part of physics, part of our understanding of the material universe, which reunites self and matter, ourselves with the world (Alexander, 2004, p. 44)
Sometimes implicit, sometimes explicit, is the offering that the teachings of nonduality, as known experientially and via an unfolding, process, path, or way that is unique for each individual, are a modern way of making that connection to the “I.”
Yet, since there is no central authority for the teachings of nonduality, no specific path can be recommended. The curious one simply has to start searching, looking within, doing whatever seems to be the next obvious step. Many, many paths and teachers could be recommended, and some will be noted, however the author recommends no one and nothing. The reader must find out for him- or herself.
As far as those who doubt that the “I” really exists in the first place, Christopher Alexander provides an intellectual argument over the course of the four volumes of The Nature of Order. Christopher writes, “[A] difficult intellectual path lies before us in this book.” (Alexander, 2004, p. 8). While some feel they require a well-marked path to walk, Matthew Arnold’s words from Human Life, could be considered:
Ah! let us make no claim
On life’s incognizable sea
To too exact a steering of our way!
I shall not present an argument. I write more for those who already have no doubt about the reality of the “I” and the importance of living from their true nature as “I,” and who find value in hearing the variety of expressions regarding the “I,” hearing it from all conceivable sources, whether a book, a dance, or a rock.
A rock. Photo by Jerry Katz
A note regarding what lies beyond the “I”
As for those who have even seen the “I” evaporate into an is-ness which neither is nor is not, these quotations may provide some enjoyment. Although I would not demand there is such a thing as an “I,” expressions about the “I” help me focus on my artistic objective; they serve as a muse.
“Expressions about the “I” help me focus on my artistic objective; they serve as a muse.” Photo by Mary-Jean Doyle
Christopher Alexander was born in Vienna, Austria and raised in Oxford and Chichester, England. He studied at Trinity College in Cambridge, at Cambridge University, and at Harvard University where he received Harvard’s first Ph.D. in architecture. In 1963, Alexander became Professor of Architecture at the University of California, Berkeley, where he taught for 38 years, becoming Professor Emeritus in 2001. He has published hundreds of papers and built over 300 buildings globally (Christopher Alexander, 2011).
Some quotations from the YouTube video: Every step you take … has to increase or deepen the part of the enivornment you are working in. . . . Where does the whole come into play and what is it we need to do to deepen that wholeness … and what are the means one could use or should use to make this happen? . . . You can’t say something is beautiful unless it actually produces in you the emotion of beauty.
Christopher Alexander currently lives and works in England, where he has been since 2002. For nearly 50 years he has promoted an architectural hypothesis which values the “I” or essential self. His work arises out of refined observation and testing, and the totality of his works bears not only on the design of buildings but on computer science, transportation science, art in general, and cognitive science (Christopher Alexander, 2011).
Alexander’s groundbreaking works including A Pattern Language: Towns, Buildings, Construction (Oxford University Press, 1977), The Timeless Way of Building (OUP, 1977), and the four-volume book set, The Nature of Order: An Essay on the Art of Building and the Nature of the Universe (Center for Environmental Structure, 2004), from which Volume Four is the source for most of the material in this essay (Christopher Alexander, 2011).
Alexander’s most recent book is The Battle for the Life and Beauty of the Earth: A Struggle Between Two World-Systems, authored with Hansjoachim Neis and Maggie Moore Alexander, and published in 2012 by Oxford University Press in New York.
When in 1958 Christopher Alexander began to study for his Ph.D. in architecture at Harvard, he was seeking “the smallest particles of fact that I could be certain of . . . small enough and solid enough that I could be sure that they were true” (Alexander, 2016).
“…the smallest particles of fact that I could be certain of.” Photo by Jerry Katz
In this search, he came upon an awakening experience when he realized that some of the small details of architecture touched people in beneficial ways. They had the potential to inspire and support mental and emotional well-being: “. . . a shelf beside the door where one could put a packet down while searching for one’s keys, for instance, or the possibility of a sunbeam coming into a room and falling on the floor” (Alexander, 2016).
“…the possibility of a sunbeam coming into a room and falling on the floor.”
Photo by Jerry Katz
He elaborates on this awakening experience:
I was able to see how buildings support human well-being — not so much mechanical or material well-being, but rather the emotional well-being that makes a person feel comfortable in himself. And as I studied these small effects carefully, gradually I was led to a conception of the wholeness and wellness that might, under ideal circumstances, arise between buildings and human beings (Alexander, 2016).
This and likely other such awakening experiences fueled an inquiry into the fundamental nature of architectural elements. Through this inquiry he ultimately recognized his fundamental self: the “I,” his own true self, or his “true childish heart” (Alexander, 2004, p. 5), about which he observed,
. . . is something vast, existing outside myself and inside myself, as if it were a contact with the eternal, something everlasting existing before me, in me, around me. I recognized, too, that my most lucid moments occur when I am swept up in this void, and fully conscious of it, as if it were a blinding light (Alexander, 2004, p. 7).
“I am swept up in this void, and fully conscious of it, as if it were a blinding light.”
Photo by Jerry Katz
Alexander’s architectural theories began to emerge. They were based on imparting a deep feeling — psychologically and emotionally — of being human (Alexander, 2016).
Now, for nearly sixty years, Alexander has worked “to provide a basis for architecture that can sustain human feeling and the human spirit” (Alexander, 2016).
Chartres Cathedral, a well-discussed example by Alexander of “Architecture that can sustain human feeling and the human spirit.”
Christopher Alexander’s work is characterized by persistently and passionately speaking about the need to experience in one’s self their true nature or what he calls the “I” (Alexander, 2004), and to intentionally create buildings and structures that are founded in the realization of the “I,” which in turn inspire the emotion of beauty and the realization, or at least the sense, intuition, or feeling of the “I” within the one experiencing the built structures.
Alexander, C. (2004). The nature of order: An essay on the art of building and the nature of the universe. Book four: The luminous ground. Berkeley, California: The Center for Environmental Structure.
Alexander, Christopher. (2016) “Making the Garden.” First Things. Retrieved from www.firstthings.com/article/2016/02/making-the-garden
Christopher Alexander: The Battle To Bring Life and Beauty to the Earth. (2011, May). Retrieved from atc.berkeley.edu/bio/Christopher_Alexander/
Nisargadatta Maharaj. (1992). I am that: Talks with Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj. Durham, NC: The Acorn Press.
Ramana Maharshi. (1989). Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi. India: Sri Ramanasramam.
Spira, Rupert. (2015). “Meditation: Being Aware of Being Aware is the Highest Meditation.” Rupert Spira: The Essence of Non-Duality. www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZ8tQYYNIg0. Accessed 14 Mar. 2017.
The Timeless Way of Educating Architects: A New Master in ‘Building Beauty’ in Naples, Italy. (2016, October). Retrieved from papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2846153
out of the soil of mystery we have been grown
upon the earth we have been bestowed
here we are getting through the terrible two’s
just a nanosecond more to go
in the house
very small shred of paper
placed in trash can
where a fire was
I am not unlike the man in rubber boots
who walks on the ocean bottom at low tide
bent at the waist
he digs into the mud for clams
laying each one at the bottom of a plastic pail