Tuesday, December 4, 2018

consciousness is everywhere.

science and religion.


Conflicts Between Science And Spirituality Are Rooted In Your Brain

“They are different kinds of insight, so there is really no reason for so much conflict to arise.”


Neuroscience can help shed light on the complex relationship between religious belief and analytic thinking.
MIKE AGLIOLO VIA GETTY IMAGES
Neuroscience can help shed light on the complex relationship between religious belief and analytic thinking.
The standoff between science and religion — between fact-based and faith-based ways of thinking and explaining the world — is nearly as old as human thought itself. 
In fact, the conflict may be rooted in the very structure of our brains, according to research published last week in the journal PLOS One. 
The researchers observed on the neurological level a deep-seated tension between analytical reasoning — which is associated with disbelief in God — and moral reasoning — which is associated with belief in God or a “universal spirit.” 
The new study reinforces the findings of a previous study by the same research team which showed that the brain has an analytical network used for critical thinking and a social network that allows us to empathize and engage in moral reasoning.
There is an opposition between the two networks, according to the research team. When people are experiencing faith in a supernatural entity, they suppress the brain network used for analytical thinking. And when they reason about the physical world, they disengage the brain network involved in empathy and moral reasoning. 
The findings echo the philosophy of German idealist thinker Immanuel Kant, who held that there were two different types of truths, the empirical and the moral. 
“Kant distinguished between theoretical reason (science) and practical reason (morality),” the study’s lead author Dr. Tony Jack, a professor of philosophy and neuroscience and director of the Brain, Mind and Consciousness Lab at Case Western Reserve University, told The Huffington Post in an email. “Kant pointed out these two types of reason can conflict, and that is pretty close to what we now see in the brain. So in some sense the conflict is rooted in the brain.”
Because these two networks suppress each other, we come to favor one mode of thinking over the other — setting the basis for the conflict between science and religion. 
“Our dialogue around religion would be more productive if scientists respect the insights that religion can offer, and if religious individuals would respect the insights science can offer.”Dr. Tony Jack, director of the Brain, Mind and Consciousness Lab
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In the new study, Jack and his colleagues conducted a series of eight experiments on groups of up to 527 adults. In the first experiment, for instance, the participants were asked to fill out a series of questionnaires measuring critical and mechanical thinking (both measures of analytic reasoning), empathic concern and spiritual and religious beliefs. The other experiments were a variation of the initial study.
The results of the experiments revealed that the greater a participants’ belief in God, the more moral thinking and less analytic reasoning they tended to show. 
“Believing in a religion or being spiritual is linked to empathic feelings, concerns and views,” Dr. Richard Boyatzis, a professor of cognitive science at the university and a co-author of the study’s co-authors, told HuffPost in an email. “People with some form of faith — be it a church-attending Catholic or someone practicing yoga regularly and enjoying the spiritual sensations — appear to think about their relationships with others and are seen by others as demonstrating more empathy in day-to-day interactions than others with less faith.”
Moral concern was positively correlated with regularity of prayer, meditation and other spiritual practices. The experiments also revealed that favoring analytic thinking correlated with a disbelief in spiritual or religious ideas — likely because faith requires the disengagement of brain networks associated with analytical thought. 
“Taking a leap of faith involves shutting down brain regions involved in analytic reason,” Jack said. 
So will we ever reconcile scientific and spiritual approaches to looking at the world? The two ways of thinking may be converging, but the gap is unlikely to ever close entirely — and that’s probably a good thing, according to Jack. 
We can learn something different from each way of thinking, and can draw on analytic and moral reasoning in different situations as they are required. 
“Our dialogue around religion would be more productive if scientists respect the insights that religion can offer, and if religious individuals would respect the insights science can offer,” Jack said. “They are different kinds of insight, so there is really no reason for so much conflict to arise.”
And as individuals, optimal thinking likely results from a dynamic interplay of these two types of reasoning, based on the nature of the particular problem we’re facing. 
“We, like Kant, think these two types of reason are best applied to different sorts of issues,” Jack said. “So long as each type of thinking is kept to the appropriate domain, no conflict emerges.”

Monday, December 3, 2018

In your heart.

In Your Heart

© 
Published: February 2006
He was so proud of his little girl.
It was her very first day of school.
He walked with her to school that day,
And she held his hand all the way.
They walked together quiet and sad,
A little girl and her loving dad.
Into the school her father led,
But he almost cried when she said,
"Daddy, Daddy, please don't go.
Don't leave me here all alone.
I'll miss you if you go away,
And I might need you; can't you stay?"
"Little Daughter, please don't cry.
You'll be okay, so dry your eyes.
You have our memories in your heart.
We're together though we're apart."

He sat up front on her wedding day
And cried as his daughter walked away.
Later that night he watched her dance.
He sat there waiting for his chance.
The band started to play their song.
Father and daughter danced along.
She looked at him and saw a tear
Then leaned and whispered in his ear,
"Daddy, Daddy, I have to go.
I hate to leave you all alone.
I'll miss you when I go away,
But if you need me then I'll stay."
"Little Daughter, I'll be just fine.
I'll love you always; you are mine.
I have our memories in my heart.
We're together though we're apart."

She came in his room and kissed his head
Then sat next to his hospital bed.
He took her hand and held it tight
And wished he had the strength to fight.
They sat together, quiet and sad,
A daughter and her dying dad.
He saw the tears she tried to hide.
She looked at him and then she cried.
"Daddy, Daddy, please don't go.
Don't leave me here all alone.
I'll miss you when you go away.
I still need you; you have to stay."
"Little Daughter, I love you so.
I want to stay but have to go.
I'll always be here in your heart.
We're together though we're apart."

the true meaning of life.

The True Meaning Of Life

© 
Published: July 2017
The Years have passed by,
In the blink of an eye,
Moments of sadness,
And joy have flown by.

People I loved,
Have come and have gone,
But the world never stopped,
And we all carried on.

Life wasn't easy,
And the struggles were there,
Filled with times that it mattered,
Times I just didn't care.

I stood on my own,
And I still found my way,
Through some nights filled with tears,
And the dawn of new days.

And now with old age,
It's become very clear,
Things I once found important,
Were not why I was here.

And how many things,
That I managed to buy,
Were never what made me,
Feel better inside.

And the worries and fears,
That plagued me each day,
In the end of it all,
Would just fade away.

But how much I reached out,
To others when needed,
Would be the true measure,
Of how I succeeded.

And how much I shared,
Of my soul and my heart,
Would ultimately be,
What set me apart.

And what's really important,
Is my opinion of me,
And whether or not,
I'm the best I can be.

And how much more kindness,
And love I can show,
Before the Lord tells me,
It's my time to go.

Jayadevas ashtapadis


Jayadeva’s bhakti for Krishna finds its match in his lyrical prowess
Jayadeva’s Ashtapadi differs from other bhakti compositions because of the predominant element of poetry. There is sensitivity and imagination in every stanza. The main problem in citing examples is the explicit nature of his description of the amorous dalliance of Krishna with Radha and other gopikas. One has, therefore, to be choosy, and be somewhat of a Bowdler, in quoting from Jayadeva.
The beauty (or, is it irony?) of it is that Jayadeva keeps saying that reading his explicit verses will not only confer various kinds of benefits but also neutralise the sins of kali:
“Yadgandharva kalaasu kaushalamanudhyaanam cha yad vaishnavam, Yashrungaara viveka tatva rachanaa kaavyeshu lilayitham, tatsarvam Jayadevapanditha kave: krushnai kahaanaatmanana: saanandaa: parishodayanthu sughiya: shri Gita Govindata”
(From the Gita Govinda composed by Jayadeva, who is extremely devoted to Krishna, the wise may get proficiency in music, uninterrupted contemplation on Vishnu and knowledge of the intricate techniques of erotics (sloka).
“Sri Jayadeva vachasi ruchire sadayam hrudayam kuru mandane, haricharana smaranaamrutha nirmitha kali kalusha jwara khandane:”
(Always remember the words of Jayadeva which dispel the fever, namely, the sins of Kali and express the sweet devotion to the feet of Krishna - ‘kuru yadhu nandana.’)
The apocryphal story is that Jayadeva once toned down his explicit version in one of the stanzas and went to sleep and, on waking up, found that Krishna had appeared and restored the original version!
Let us see some examples of his beautiful poetry:
“Abhinava jaladhara sundara” — beautifully dark-hued like a fresh rain-bearing cloud (shritha Kamala kucha)
“Shrimukha chandra chakora:” — longing for Goddess Lakshmi’s face as a chakora bird longs for the moon (shritha Kamala kucha)
“Shri Radhapathi paada padma bhajanaanandaabdhi magno anisham tham vande Jayadeva sathguruvaram Padmavati vallabham” — I bow down to that foremost preceptor Jayadeva, who is always immersed in the ocean of bliss in worshipping the lotus feet of the consort of Radha and who is the spouse of Padmavati (Dhyana slokam – Shri Gopalavilasini )
Rama avatar
“Vitharasi dhikshu rane dikpathi kamaniyam dasamukhamouli balim ramaniyam, Keshava dhrutha Rama sareera:” — O Keshava! One who has assumed the form of Rama! You scattered the heads of Ravana in ten directions in the battlefield as if offering oblations acceptable to the guardian deities (‘Jaya Jagadisha Hare’)
“Lalitha lavanga latha pariseelana komala malaya samire, madhukara nikara karambita kokila koojita kunja kutire:” — In the soft westerly winds embracing the soft clove creepers and in the bowers filled with the buzzing swarms of honey bees and sweet notes of cuckoos (‘lalitha lavanga’)
“Spuradathi muktha latha parirambhaNa mukulita pulakita chuthe” — As the mango tree blossoms as it were on account of the embrace of the atimuktha creeper, Krishna rejoices with the maidens (’viharathi hari riha’)
“Nityotsanga vasath bhujanga kavalakleshadi veshachalam, praleyaplavanechaanusarati shri khandana shailaanila” The soft breeze from the Malaya mountains wafts north as if it cannot stand the heat produced by the poisonous serpents in the southern mountains and wants to get cooled by the snowclad Himalaya mountains of the north.
“Jalada patala chaladindu vinindaka chandana bindu lalatam” — (The sandal paste pottu on Krishna’s forehead in its beauty mocks at the moon, which moves slowly through the banks of cluds (‘sancharadhara sudha’)
“Varnitam Jayadevakena hareritam pravanena, kindubilva samudrasambhava rohini ramanena” — Just as the moon, which rises from the ocean makes it happy, Jayadeva, who was born in kindubilva makes it happy (‘mamiyam chalita’)
“Shashimukhi! tava bhaathi bhangura bhru yuvajanamohakar aalakaala sarpi” — One who has a beautiful face like the moon! Your curved eyebrow is like the cruel black cobra that stupefies youth (‘dhyana slokam — parihara kruthathanke’)
“Shashimukhi! mukharaya manirashanagunamanuguna kanTaninadam, shrutiyugale pikarutavikale mama shmaya chiradavasadam” — “O moon-faced one! Let the bells in your girdle ring in resonance with the sweet notes of your voice. It will soothe my ears which have found even the notes of cuckoos harsh due to separation from you (‘kisalaya shayanatale’)
Jayadeva ends his kaavyam with a striking compliment to himself: “Saadhvi maadhvika! chintha na bhavati bhavata: sharkare! karkashasi, dhrakshe! dhrakhshayanti ke tvaamamrutha! mruthaamasi ksheera! niram rasasthe, makand! krandha kanthadhara! dhara na thulam gala yachchanthi bhavam, yaavatshrungarasaaram shubhamiha Jayadevasya vaidagdhya vaacha” — O sweet wine, do not consider yourself sweet any longer. O sugar! you are crude and harsh. O grapes! who would bother to look at you? O milk! You are tasteless and insipid. O mango fruit ! You lament that you are worthless. O ruddy lips of lovely women! Do not aspire to any comparison as long as the words of Jayadeva last.


Sunday, December 2, 2018

wooooooooooooooomen

if women could be fa ire & never fond,
or that their beau tie might continue still:
I would not mervaile though they made men bond,
by service long, to purchase their good will.
But when I see, how frail these creatures are:
I laugh, that men forget themselves so far.

To Mark what choice they make, and how they change,
how leaving best the worst they chose out still:
And how like haggard Wilde, about they range,
Scorning after reason to follow will.
Who would not shake such buzzards from the fist,
& let them file (fa ire fool es) which way they list.

Yet for our sport, wee Fawne and flatter both,
To passe the time, when nothing else can please:
And trainee them on to yield by sub till oath,
The sweet content, that gives such humour ease.
And then wee say, when wee their follies tire,
To play with fool es, Oh what a Foley was I.

Saturday, December 1, 2018

cambridge dec 2018.


Breathes there the man sir walter scott.

Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,

Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land!
Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d,
As home his footsteps he hath turn’d,
From wandering on a foreign strand!
If such there breathe, go, mark him well;
For him no Minstrel raptures swell;
High though his titles, proud his name,
Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;
Despite those titles, power, and pelf,
The wretch, concentred all in self,
Living, shall forfeit fair renown,
And, doubly dying, shall go down
To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,
Unwept, unhonour’d, and unsung.



The Sea

By: Lord Byron
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:
I love not man the less, but nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean,—roll!
Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain;
Man marks the earth with ruin,—his control
Stops with the shore;—upon the watery plain
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain
A shadow of man’s ravage, save his own,
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain,
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.
His steps are not upon thy paths,—thy fields
Are not a spoil for him,—thou dost arise
And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields
For earth’s destruction thou dost all despise,
Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies,
And send’st him, shivering in thy playful spray
And howling, to his gods, where haply lies
His petty hope in some near port or bay,
And dashest him again to earth:—there let him lay.
The armaments which thunderstrike the walls
Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake
And monarchs tremble in their capitals,
The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make
Their clay creator the vain title take
Of lord of thee and arbiter of war,—
These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake,
They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada’s pride or spoils of Trafalgar.
Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee;
Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they?
Thy waters wasted them while they were free,
And many a tyrant since; their shores obey
The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay
Has dried up realms to deserts: not so thou;
Unchangeable save to thy wild waves’ play,
Time writes no wrinkles on thine azure brow;
Such as creation’s dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty’s form
Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,
Calm or convulsed,—in breeze, or gale, or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime
Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime,
The image of Eternity,—the throne
Of the Invisible! even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made; each zone
Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be
Borne, like thy bubbles, onward; from a boy
I wantoned with thy breakers,—they to me
Were a delight; and if the freshening sea
Made them a terror, ’t was a pleasing fear;
For I was as it were a child of thee,
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane,—as I do here.
Casabianca
The boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle’s wreck,
Shone round him o’er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.
The flames rolled on – he would not go,
Without his father’s word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.
He called aloud – ‘Say, father, say
If yet my task is done?’
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.
‘Speak, father!’ once again he cried,
‘If I may yet be gone!’
– And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames rolled on.
Upon his brow he felt their breath
And in his waving hair;
And look’d from that lone post of death,
In still yet brave despair.
And shouted but once more aloud,
‘My father! must I stay?’
While o’er him fast, through sail and shroud,
The wreathing fires made way.
They wrapped the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And streamed above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.
There came a burst of thunder sound –
The boy – oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea!
With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part,
But the noblest thing which perished there,
Was that young faithful heart.

English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics.  1909–14.
 My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is
Sir Edward Dyer (d. 1607)
MY mind to me a kingdom is;
  Such present joys therein I find,
That it excels all other bliss
  That earth affords or grows by kind:
Though much I want that most would have,        5
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.
No princely pomp, no wealthy store,
  No force to win the victory,
No wily wit to salve a sore,
  No shape to feed a loving eye;        10
To none of these I yield as thrall;
For why? my mind doth serve for all.
I see how plenty surfeits oft,
  And hasty climbers soon do fall;
I see that those which are aloft        15
  Mishap doth threaten most of all:
They get with toil, they keep with fear:
Such cares my mind could never bear.
Content I live, this is my stay;
  I seek no more than may suffice;        20
I press to bear no haughty sway;
  Look, what I lack my mind supplies.
Lo, thus I triumph like a king,
Content with that my mind doth bring.
Some have too much, yet still do crave;        25
  I little have, and seek no more.
They are but poor, though much they have,
  And I am rich with little store;
They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lack, I leave; they pine, I live.        30
I laugh not at another’s loss,
  I grudge not at another’s gain;
No worldly waves my mind can toss;
  My state at one doth still remain:
I fear no foe, I fawn no friend;        35
I loathe not life, nor dread my end.
Some weigh their pleasure by their lust,
  Their wisdom by their rage of will;
Their treasure is their only trust,
  A cloakèd craft their store of skill;        40
But all the pleasure that I find
Is to maintain a quiet mind.
My wealth is health and perfect ease,
  My conscience clear my chief defence;
I neither seek by bribes to please,        45
  Nor by deceit to breed offence:
Thus do I live; thus will I die;
Would all did so as well as I!