Checkout - Caroline Bird

I am proposing something more like a founding myth for an aspect of the way our minds are set up.  I am sitting in a coffee shop full of predators. They eat animal flesh, they have the binocular vision typical of animals that need to focus on and assess prey from afar, from a still vantage point. They manipulate one another expertly - they manipulate millions, organizing each other into tribes, cities, armies, nations. They use each other. They might have any of a thousand reasons for saying something, other than the truth. And yet, they are the most compassionate animals ever seen. One reason for an animal to evolve a capacity to think about other animals is in order to benefit from cooperation within a herd. There is (also) a very different reason evolution would favor a faculty for understanding other animals: to prey on them. If you want to hunt and eat other agents, it helps to be able to predict their behavior - so you model it. Humans are... an animal with these twin drives. The ability to receive signals from a member of the herd empathetically, and the ability to model the behavior of another agent predatorily. Being modeled explicitly as a system with inputs, outputs, and predictable behavior can creep people out. This contributes to the strong negative responses to attempts to learn social skills by building an explicit model of social interactions. Acting, not quickly and spontaneously, but slowly, deliberately, thinking about a problem for a long time before making a move. It seems like the sort of thing a person would do - not to someone they wanted to cooperate with - but someone they wanted to eat. It feels like having a single set of eyes, close together with binocular predator vision, silently watching you. A solo predator and a herd animal, inextricably connected together, in our more reflective moments not always sure we can trust ourselves even to be good to our friends, not sure we can trust others to be what they say they are, and yet, something in this unusual combination lets us fake it, lets us approximate what it might be, to be a mind that truly loves another.

Benjamin R. Hoffman ‘The Predator in the Herd’

I frequently hear the same yearning expressed in my consulting room – the wish for the world to disappear, for a cessation of any feelings, whether positive or negative, that intrude on the patient’s peace, alongside the painful awareness that the world’s demands are waiting on the way out. You feel burnout when you’ve exhausted all your internal resources, yet cannot free yourself of the nervous compulsion to go on regardless. Life becomes something that won’t stop bothering you. Among its most frequent and oppressive symptoms is chronic indecision, as though all the possibilities and choices life confronts you with cancel each other out, leaving only an irritable stasis.

Josh Cohen

So, back in April the Shakespeare Association of America conference offered morning “Shakespeare Yoga” sessions. This basically meant regular yoga with a Shakespeare-inspired soundtrack, but I thought it would be fun to codify some classic Shakespearean yoga poses.

Consulting pocket dramaturg: Kate Pitt, as usual.

If you can think of a Shakespeare equivalent for ‘chaturanga dandasana’, leave me a comment below. I’ve spent way too much time thinking about it.

Zhu Naizheng（朱 乃正 Chinese, b.1935）

孤翔

A fact is what won’t go away, what we cannot not know, as Henry James remarked of the real. Yet when we bring one closer, stare at it, test our loyalty to it, it begins to shimmer with complication. Without becoming less factual, it floats off into myth. Italo Calvino’s Mr Palomar looks at the sky, his lawn, the sea, starlings, tortoises, Roman rooftops, a girl, giraffes and much else. He wants only to observe, to learn a modest lesson from creatures and things. But he can’t. There is too much to see in them, for a start. … And there is too much of himself and his culture in the world he watches anyway: the universe is littered with the signs of our needs, with mythologies.

Michael Wood

"Mäletan, kuidas sa mõne aasta eest südametäiega pahvatasid metsaraiumise kohta: see on ju riiklik laastamine! Ja veel enam jäi hinge kõrvulukustav vaikus, mis peale seda mõtteruumis maad võttis. Ei tõtanud keegi noid sõnu parandama ega ümber lükkama, las vana mees räägib, maailm veereb edasi, uued uudised tulevad ja ebamugavus lahtub, piinlik apsakas ununeb. Aga see, mis oli varjul nende sõnade taga, jäi. See pilt, kuhu osutas sinu tõstetud sõrm. Vaadake seda maad, milline häbi! See, mida riik on teinud oma loodusega, ei ole olnud väärikas. Eesti loodusega on läinud samamoodi, nagu läks indiaanlastega. Selle maa loodus on lõputute seadusemuudatuste, arengukavade ja töötubade kaudu viimaks ikkagi inimeste käest välja petetud, nende hinge on väärkoheldud, väärikust alandatud. Eesti Loodus elab edasi reservaadis, see on ilus, seda saab imetleda, sealt metsaande korjata, piltegi teha, seminare ja töötubasid korraldada. Aga midagi on muutunud, lõplikult. Midagi väga olulist on surnud – eks sõnastagem see. Mis see siis on? Pihta on saanud loodus, aga ka usk elu põhiväärtustesse. Usk Eesti looduse kaitsesse on kokku kukkunud. Selle asemele on tulnud teadmine, kui odav on riik, kui alandlik ja hirmunud, kui lihtne on teda raha ja ähvardustega üles osta, panna tegema seda, mida ta mingil juhul teha ei tohiks. Riik on samm-sammult taganenud raha surve ees. Riik on kaotanud väärikuse. See on kõige hullem asi, mis saab juhtuda. Loodus annab riigile väärikuse. Loodus on riigi südametunnistus. Ühiskonda ei iseloomusta mitte see, mida ta loob, vaid see, mida ta keeldub hävitamast. Nii on arvanud Ameerika looduskaitsja John C. Sawhill."

- Valdur Mikita Järelhüüe Fred Jüssile "Head teed sulle, kotkas"