"Winners at the April tasting... included melt​ed snow that had been filtered through Peruvian volcanic rock, and deep-sea water that had been pumped up 80 miles off the coast of South Korea."

"There was water gathered from nets hung in a misty Tasmanian pine forest, and a Texas brand laced with lithium called Crazy Water.... Hotels are adding precisely designed water bars. Home wine cellars have become water cellars, where children are encouraged to select bottles with their parents. Water sommelier programs continue to grow. And of course, water influencers gather more and more followers...."

From "You’ve Heard of Fine Wine. Now Meet Fine Water. Bottled waters from small, pristine sources are attracting a lot of buzz, with tastings, sommeliers and even water cellars" (NYT).

It sounds like comedy, but it's really happening. As for that water pumped up from the "deep sea," it sounds salty, and it had me wondering if it's possible for unsalty water to somehow exist below the salt water. The NYT article doesn't impinge on the fantasy of the specialness of the water, but I believe these waters are processed, are they not? That deep-sea water must be desalinated and then a chosen mix of minerals is added, right? And "water gathered from nets"? Does that sound ethereal to you... or unclean? Why not water gathered from towels hung in a steamy bathroom?

"This garden is very interesting in that it’s part of a spiritual practice: It’s used for meditation. Moss is very tiny..."

"... and being in the garden, looking so closely to distinguish one type from another, requires a special kind of attention. It opens up a completely different kind of universe."

Said Harvard architecture professor Toshiko Mori, about the Saihoji Kokedera Temple and Moss Garden in Kyoto, quoted in "The 25 Gardens You Must SeeWe asked six horticultural experts to debate and ultimately choose the places that’ve changed the way we look at — and think about — plants" (NYT)(free-access link, so you can see all the photos and read about the other gardens).

I love the story of the creation of this garden: "In 1339, Muso Kokushi, a Buddhist high priest and master gardener, created what’s believed to be the first-ever karesansui (dry landscape)... carefully placed rocks and swaths of sand or gravel raked to invoke rippling water... In the nineteenth century, Saihoji was flooded repeatedly when a nearby river overflowed its banks... Rather than fight nature, the monks embraced change... With more than 120 varieties [of moss]... Saihoji looks quite different than it did in Kokushi’s day, but, in the hands of the monks who continue to maintain it, its purpose of encouraging serenity and contemplation hasn’t changed....."

The monks carry on a traditional practice of meditation, bound to this site for 7 centuries. But what would it be for you to drop in one day?

"Walking is a way to slow oneself down, to cultivate attentiveness and to return to the elements, as the roundabout entrances to the museums on the islands..."

"... of Naoshima and Teshima encourage visitors to do. A country that lacks Western-style addresses, where simply extricating yourself from a train station can take 10,000 steps, is made for the flâneur who recalls the German philosopher Walter Benjamin’s observation that not finding your way is very different from getting lost...."

From "Why Japan Is Best Experienced By Foot/In Japan, the simple act of walking has long been connected to working toward enlightenment" (NYT).

Every place worth living in or traveling to is best experienced by foot. That's what I say. If you want to feel that you are on a path toward enlightenment through walking, it's a bit insane to begin by flying half way around the word — racking up a massive regression — and needing to extricate yourself from or into complicated buildings.

I remember something about walking meditation from "Dharma Bums," the Jack Kerouac book I listened to — while walking — recently. I was searching the text for "walking," thinking I'd find the exactly right text, but I found this: "Standing on my head before bedtime on that rock roof of the moonlight I could indeed see that the earth was truly upsidedown and man a weird vain beetle full of strange ideas walking around upsidedown and boasting, and I could realize that man remembered why this dream of planets and plants and Plantagenets was built out of the primordial essence."

There were lots of handmade/"handmade" signs at Madison's anti-Trump rally yesterday.

What would you do if it was your job to create the look of a truly grassroots uprising? Wonky lettering. Off-beat slogans. One thing I noticed was that the signs — most of them — were on uniformly sized white poster board. I'd go with more unfolded boxes — corrugated cardboard — and spray-painted old sheets. And the sign-holders were densely packed in front of the speaker's podium. That's photogenic, but lacking in chaotic energy. 

I was merely driving by the protests, so I can't comment on the mood. Were they angry? But these are people who just had a big political win 4 days ago — the Wisconsin Supreme Court election. They could be happy. Whatever. I'm not a source of information as I was 14 years ago, during the anti-Scott-Walker protests. 

I remember when that mild-mannered character was "Hitler":

"Rawdoggers seem to believe they have invented a new form of meditation, and who am I to say they have not?"

"Whereas the Buddhist might accept the captive circumstances of a long flight as an invitation to let go of worldly snares, the rawdogger seeks to overcome them through refusal and its public performance. He rejects the movie. He rejects the frail crinkle of the plastic airline-refreshment cup. He rejects the tender sorrow that cruising altitude somehow always amplifies. Having ascended thanks to the ingenuity of humankind, the rawdogger now rises above the very idea of ascent.... The practice evolved from the broader rise of asceticism, especially among (young, very online) men.... What is natural... about being hurtled through the troposphere in a pressurized metal tube burning petroleum distillates refined from dinosaur debris?... But to pursue a state of purity—even a fictional one; even a made-up, obviously impure one—still feels righteous. To act on an attempt to become closer to nature, or some imagined state of unadulteratedness, also makes one feel as if one is getting the best of it...."

Writes Ian Bogost, in "Young Men Have Invented a New Way to Defeat Themselves/Rawdogging is a search for purity that cannot be achieved" (The Atlantic)(free-access link, in case you need "rawdogging" defined, etc.).

I'm giving this my "scrupulosity" tag.

"No music, no streaming, no snacking, no sleep."

"'Raw-dogging' has become the buzziest travel trend of the summer, seeing stealth plane passengers forgo the modern comforts of flying to stare at either the in-flight map or nothing at all during lengthy trips."

From "Men are ‘raw dogging’ it on flights — here’s what the weird travel trend means" (NY Post).

This gets my "meditation" tag.

"The Natural Law Party was founded in 1992 on a platform that included promotion of transcendental meditation, responsible gun use, flat taxes and organic farming...."

"For 22 years, [Doug] Dern, a bankruptcy lawyer with a small practice outside Detroit, has almost single-handedly kept the Natural Law Party on Michigan’s ballot."Each cycle, the party runs a handful of candidates in obscure state races to meet Michigan’s minimum polling requirements for minor parties. 'Keep that ballot access,' Mr. Dern, 62, said in an interview on Friday. 'Because someday, a candidate is going to come along who’s going to be perfect for it. Someday, the third parties are going to be hot.'... "

I'm reading "How R.F.K. Jr. Got on the Michigan Ballot, With Only Two Votes/The independent candidate persuaded a tiny party to give him its line on the ballot in a key 2024 battleground state, sparing him a costly, arduous organizing effort" (NYT).

"Mr. Kennedy was formally nominated at a brief convention held Wednesday morning in Mr. Dern’s law office. The only two attendees were Mr. Dern and the party’s secretary.... Mr. Dern... has worked as a stage magician and also has a law practice for drunken-driving arrests.... 'I’ve just been plugging away, year after year, making sure there are people on the ballot,' he said."

Nothing goes together like transcendental meditation, drunk driving, and magic.

Thanks to Doug Dern for keeping the Natural Law fire burning, lending a hand to Bobby, and throwing a monkey wrench into the 2-party system.

"The anxiety that’s been ricing my lungs turns steely and sharp when I see a pale wooden door built into a hillside, framed by lava rock."

"It looks like the entrance to Bilbo Baggins’s house. I go in. A stairway tumbles down to a windowless, 300-square-foot room with textured walls, a bathroom, and a wooden bed that smells like sage. A single low-wattage bulb hums faintly overhead. It’s controlled by a switch covered with a hard plastic guard, which makes it difficult to turn off and on. That’s the point. This room and two others like it in these secret woodlands are the heart of what might be the country’s only established commercial dark retreat. This is a spiritual place, where visitors pay good money to spend long periods of time in crypt-like blackness, devoid of all light and most sounds, in an attempt to uncage their minds and, they hope, discover something deeper within... I flip the switch to see just how dark the dark is, and terror presses into me like 13,000 vertical feet of seawater...."

Writes Tim Neville, in "The Darkness That Blew My Mind/Embarking on four days of total blackout, inside the sensory equivalent of a tomb, our writer went on a dark-cave retreat, the same one that quarterback Aaron Rodgers did" (Outside).

"We love what we take care of, and we take care of what we love. Instead of groaning at the task of treating my cast-iron skillet..."

"... I now treat it as a fulfilling act of service; I know that my time seasoning it with salt and oil will affect its life span and the palate of future generations. I scrub away at the hand-me-down dinnerware from my father-in-law, and I’m connected to him. In an unexpected way, pride has seeped into my kitchen work. Cleanliness is a matter of principle.... Carl Jung once said, 'Modern man can’t see god because he doesn’t look low enough.' Will you find God in your kitchen sink?"

Writes Tyler Shane, in "You don’t need to meditate. Just wash your dishes by hand" (WaPo).

A sense of profundity attaches to one of my cast-iron pans — the one that I grew up hearing called the "spider." It is, I believe, older than I am. I use it all the time and can't imagine what one might do to it that would make it need any more seasoning. Is that low enough?

"I have this fear of being buried alive in a box."

 

That scene from the old Bob Newhart show [see correction below] was cited by the psychiatrist/neuroscientist Judson Brewer, when he was asked about C.B.T. by Joshua Rothman, who's written this new New Yorker article, "Can Cognitive Behavioral Therapy Change Our Minds? The theory behind C.B.T. rests on an unlikely idea—that we can be rational after all."

"Kennedy maintains a mental list of everyone he’s known who has died. He told me that each morning he spends an hour..."

"... having a quiet conversation with those people, usually while out hiking alone. He asks the deceased to help him be a good person, a good father, a good writer, a good attorney. He prays for his six children. He’s been doing this for 40 years. The list now holds more than 200 names. I asked him if he felt that his dad or uncle had sent him any messages encouraging him to run for president. 'I don’t really have two-way conversations of that type,' he said. 'And I would mistrust anything that I got from those waters, because I know there’s people throughout history who have heard voices.' He laughed. 'It’s hard to be the arbiter of your own sanity. It’s dangerous.'"

 Writes John Hendrickson, in "The First MAGA Democrat/Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is feeding Americans’ appetite for conspiracies" (The Atlantic).

"It’s a darkness retreat... It’s just sitting in isolation, meditation, dealing with your thoughts. It stimulates DMT, so there can be some hallucinations in there..."

"... but it’s just kind of sitting in silence, which most of us never do."

Said Aaron Rodgers, quoted in "NFL quarterback Aaron Rodgers completes ‘darkness retreat,’ ESPN reports" (CNN).

"There’s something quietly disconcerting about the mix of whale music pumped into the pod and the vaguely medical scent of the floatation solution...."

"The liquid was just over a foot deep and heated to what I assume is body temperature.... Moving my limbs was about the only entertainment. Occasionally a shimmer of something passed across my eyes. Hallucinations, but nothing revelatory. Then, from beneath me, I heard a low rumble. Just the muffled clattering of the Victoria line. Once I recognised it, it proved a comforting sound.... I emerged with a feeling of almost artificial serenity, as if someone had dialled down the radio in my brain. I returned into the Vauxhall evening, to join my fellow earthlings."

From "My strange night in a sensory deprivation tank" by Gus Carter (The Spectator). 

Actually, it didn't seem strange at all. The article caught my eye — and grabbed the 3rd of my 3 free monthly reads in The Spectator — because I was just listening to an old Joe Rogan podcast where there was discussion of a sensory deprivation tank.

 

It's an especially interesting topic to me because many years ago when I was a law clerk in federal court I worked on a copyright case about the book "Altered States."

"Mindfulness meditation can increase selfishness and reduce generosity among those with independent self-construals."

An interesting headline at PsyPost. I don't think I'd ever seen the term "self-construals" before. It's perfectly easy to understand, but just odd. It feels dismissive of personhood and identity, as if those things are just a Western perspective.

Mindfulness developed as a part of Buddhism, where it’s intimately tied up with Buddhist spiritual teachings and morality.... [M]indfulness and Buddhism developed in Asian cultures in which the typical way in which people think about themselves differs from that in the U.S. Specifically, Americans tend to think of themselves most often in independent terms with “I” as their focus: “what I want,” “who I am.” 

By contrast, people in Asian cultures more often think of themselves in interdependent terms with “we” as their focus: “what we want,” “who we are.” For interdependent-minded people, what if mindful attention to their own experiences might naturally include thinking about other people – and make them more helpful or generous?

The author of that text — which makes me uncomfortable — is Michael J. Poulin, an American psychology professor. From that "Asian" stereotype, Poulin came up with a hypothesis — "for independent-minded people, mindful attention would spur them to focus more on their individual goals and desires, and therefore cause them to become more selfish" — and designed an experiment. 

"Your daily tooth-brushing routine is a great opportunity to... try doing calf raises, squats or lunges... to meditate by focusing on the taste of the toothpaste and sound of the water."

Ludicrous advice in the NYT, in "Day 7: Brush Your Way to a New Habit."

"For the first time in nearly three decades, Alabama will allow yoga to be taught in its public schools, but..."

"... Teachers will be barred from saying the traditional salutation 'namaste' and using Sanskrit names for poses. Chanting is forbidden.... Some conservative groups had called for the prohibition to be preserved, contending that the practice of yoga is inseparable from Hinduism and Buddhism and amounted to a religious activity.... [Amendments added to the bill] require parents to sign a permission slip for students to practice yoga. They also bar school personnel from using 'hypnosis, the induction of a dissociative mental state, guided imagery, meditation or any aspect of Eastern philosophy.'... The [1993] ban was enacted after parents in the state raised concerns not only about yoga, but also about hypnotism and 'psychotherapeutic techniques.'... [O]ne mother in Birmingham said her child had brought a relaxation tape home from school that made a boy 'visibly high'...."

The NYT reports.

I've told you my opinion before. Back in 2016, I had a post, "WaPo seems surprised that people regard yoga in school as an Establishment Clause problem":

The headline is: "Ga. parents, offended by the ‘Far East religion’ of yoga, get ‘Namaste’ banned from school."

In my opinion, it's cultural appropriation and otherizing not to perceive that this is religion.

Commenters [at WaPo] pick up the cue and say things like "Georgia hicks object to 'mindfulness.' Why am I not surprised?"/"They opt for 'mindlessness.'"

Wow. Double otherizing.

"For a while now, I’ve been talking about art objects as 'machines for thinking': Our job as viewers is..."

"... to switch them on, and it’s almost impossible to do that when all you’re getting is a glimpse through the gaps in a crowd." 

Writes Blake Gopnik in "Experiencing Museums as They Should Be: Gloriously Empty/A critic discovers the joy of visiting Covid-restricted art collections, which lets him commune with van Gogh and the gang" (NYT).

This essay belongs in the transgressive literary genre, The Blessings of Covid. 

Have you spent much time gazing at museum art, anticipating lofty thoughts and emotional transport? It's hard to experience the contemplative level of awareness needed when there are always other people shifting around you, taking too little time, shattering your meditation with pointless little comments. Like reading the title of the painting out loud. Ever notice how many museum-goers do that? Or flatly stating the same factoid about the artist — the cut-off ear, the penchant for young girls...? They'll take a gander and pronounce the artist good at details. They'll opine on the looks of the person in the portrait as if it were a TikTok makeup video. The word "gorgeous" will recur so much that your meditation shifts to predicting the next time someone will say "gorgeous." And God forbid that painting you wanted as your own personal thinking machine is the next target of the wandering docent....

"They can live anywhere, but tend to reside in modest dwellings and avoid moving around unnecessarily. Nevertheless, a hermit..."

"... should also not be confused with a recluse. The difference... is that hermits do not exit society because of misanthropy. 'I would define a hermit or a person who chooses solitude as one who chooses solitude for spiritual reasons... and we do accent the spiritual, but it can be any form of spiritual.'... The Fredettes began creating YouTube videos to help hermits and hermit-curious people deal with isolation.... [T]he Fredettes and other hermits believe that anyone could benefit from incorporating some eremitic fundamentals — such as being rooted in place, practicing austerity and committing to a daily schedule that prioritizes prayer or meditation — to help them make sense of their isolation into their lives, regardless of personality type, religiosity, or life circumstances... 'We have a rock, a huge rock, that’s sticking out of the mountains... Her name is Petra. And we have a path that leads right out to Petra. And when things are difficult I go out and I lean on Petra, and I say, "Give me some guidance."'"

From "What We Can Learn From Solitude/Contemporary hermits are reaching out to people struggling with isolation. Their message: Go inward, and get outside" (NYT). The internal quotes above are all from Karen Karper Fredette who is married to a former Catholic priest. She's 78, and she "spent 30 years in a monastery after high school before leaving to live as a hermit in a cabin in West Virginia." At the link, there's an excellent photograph of the 2 of them standing on that rock. 

"[T]here is a lot of demand for me to address the situation at Vox in detail or to assimilate my personal story into a larger narrative about 'wokeness' or the culture wars."

"Personally I’m not a huge fan of navel-gazing. So I’ll just say that my personal interest in reclaiming my status as an independent, blog-like voice transcends any particular issues with any particular publication. I wanted to do this, not go find a different job, and I thank those of you who’ve joined me on this journey."

Matt Yglesias has a thing called "What's wrong with the media" at Slow Boring, his new place.

Are you a fan of navel-gazing? 

Navel-gazing or omphaloskepsis is the contemplation of one's navel as an aid to meditation. The word derives from the Ancient Greek words ὀμφᾰλός (omphalós, lit. 'navel') and σκέψῐς (sképsis, lit. 'viewing, examination, speculation'). Actual use of the practice as an aid to contemplation of basic principles of the cosmos and human nature is found in the practice of yoga or Hinduism and sometimes in the Eastern Orthodox Church. In yoga, the navel is the site of the manipura (also called nabhi) chakra, which yogis consider "a powerful chakra of the body".The monks of Mount Athos, Greece, were described as Omphalopsychians by J.G. Minningen, writing in the 1830s, who says they "...pretended or fancied that they experienced celestial joys when gazing on their umbilical region, in converse with the Deity". 

However, phrases such as "contemplating one's navel" or "navel-gazing" are frequently used, usually in jocular fashion, to refer to self-absorbed pursuits.

As long as Yglesias brought up wokeness, I just want to say that the jocular use of "navel-gazing" is a micro-aggression. You've got an unexamined premise that there is something backward about Hinduism (or the Greek Orthodox Church).

"We grow weary when idle"/"That is, sir, because others being busy, we want company; but if we were idle, there would be no growing weary; we should all entertain one another."

An old conversation — between Boswell and Johnson — that's quoted in a 2016 post of mind called "Shhhh!"

That quote begins one of my favorite books, "An Apology for Idlers" by Robert Louis Stevenson. I've called it to your attention a few times, and I think that whenever I do, I flag 2 other books I like about idleness: "Essays in Idleness" by the Buddhist monk Kenko and "In Praise of Idleness" by Bertrand Russell.

Idleness is an important topic! And I wasn't even thinking — until I got to this sentence — about it's special applicability to our predicament in the time of coronavirus.

Here are 3 recent items about idleness:

1. "How Idleness Was an Early Form of Meditation for Ancient Humans" (Great Courses Daily): "Many researchers believe that people have historically spent a lot of time meditating, even if they didn’t call it meditation per se. We think of modern life as being much easier and more convenient than what’s historically been typical, but that’s a myth....  When food was plentiful [in ancient times], it’s estimated that people could find what they needed to sustain themselves—to feed themselves and their children—surprisingly quickly.... For most of the time that Homo sapiens has been around, we’ve naturally had a lot of down time.... '[O]ur brains are, and may always have been, built to require—or at least benefit from—a certain amount of meditation just to maintain normal function.... The meditation practice I’m suggesting isn’t about looking for a clever new way to enhance the function of your brain.'"

2. "The Secret Power of Idleness/The brain does some of its best work when we take a break" (Psychology Today): "When we are busiest, our brains are not necessarily doing very much. Conversely, when we take a break and engage in some apparently mindless pursuit like playing solitaire, walking, or shoveling snow, our problem-solving brains kick into overdrive.... Aristotle celebrated the value of leisure as a cornerstone of intellectual enlightenment. He believed that true leisure involves pleasure, happiness, and living blessedly. It is more than mere amusement and is impossible for those who must work most of the time...."

3. "Celebrating Literature’s Slacker Heroes, Idlers and Liers-In" (NYT): "By 'library of indolence' I mean novels like 'Oblomov,' Ivan Goncharov’s satire about a man who hates to leave his bed, and 'Bartleby, the Scrivener,' Herman Melville’s long short story about the clerk whose motto is 'I would prefer not to.' ... The wittiest and most profound [book]... is Tom Hodgkinson’s 2005 classic 'How to Be Idle.'..... He recommends not clicking on news radio upon waking. He nails me entirely when he writes, 'A certain type of person feels it is their duty to listen to it, as if the act of merely listening is somehow going to improve the world.'... 'The lie-in — by which I mean lying in bed awake — is not a selfish indulgence but an essential tool for any student of the art of living, which is what the idler really is. Lying in bed doing nothing is noble and right, pleasurable and productive.'"