I’m going to do something I never do and present an idea that I can’t fully verify. So basically, don’t quote me, and hopefully this post gets you thinking, which is ultimately my intention. Some people say the Proto-Indo-European root of the word “art” was the morpheme “rt.” A morpheme is the smallest bit of a language to make sense; a morphological unit of a language that cannot be further divided.
“Rt” was associated with creation, beauty, and moral and aesthetic correctness. It was concerned with what was “right.” And also, Sanskrit is considered to be the most faithful to the Proto-Indo-European root. The oldest word derived from “rt” that is still in use in relation to the original meaning is “rta.” Most scholars define the Sanskrit “rta” as both the “cosmic order of things,” a physical order of the universe, and a moral ordering of the universe.
I don’t have anything quippy to say. Photo by Khara Woods on Unsplash
My spiritual teacher, however, defines Rta as truth. For me, that means there’s a connection between art and truth. Art doesn’t always reflect the truth, of course, but when it does, it has power. We all know this. We’ve all been moved by art in some form or fashion. That’s also getting harder to experience because there’s so much competition. We’re being inundated with AI slop. It’s easier to create than ever before, but what, exactly, is being created? We have people creating parodies of the show Love Island using fruits. We have deepfake pornography. We have altered images left and right. But none of it is true, and I’m also not sure it can be called “art.”
The ideal, according to my spiritual teacher, is that artists will keep in mind thoughts of benevolence. He says, “People seek deliverance from the whirlpools of darkness; they aspire to illuminate their lives and minds with light all the time. All their actions, all their feelings, express an inherent tendency to move forward; therefore, if at all they are to be offered something in this regard, the creator of art cannot remain idle or inert.”
He also says, “[A]ll creators of art should express a universalistic outlook through their pens or brushes. If artists … do not do that, we must conclude that their artistic talents have degenerated. In fact, their contributions will then be nothing but rubbish, which may be fit for fertilizer, but if dumped nearby becomes hazardous to public health.”
So yeah, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be keen on AI slop. We have more and more entertainment and less and less art. We have less and less truth but inherently, that’s what we’re all seeking. I know it may not seem that way when lies spread quicker than a respiratory virus, but I do believe this. And for me, as an artist, I’m holding fast to my north star, which is that I may not have millions of followers, I may not be world-renowned, and I may never sell more than 100 copies of my books, but I’m creating something true. And that’s something I can be proud of.
I dream of a world where we recognize the power of art. A world where we endeavor to move people forward on the path of benevolence because we understand that’s the role of the artist. A world where we seek to not merely entertain people but tell the truth with our art.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I, like many, watched the Artemis II mission with rapt fascination. It was incredible to see so many updated images of the moon and Earth. But it also had me pondering our strong connection to the moon. People talk about how the moon governs water, and the human body is about 60% water, so the moon governs us, but science doesn’t substantiate that.
And while that and other statements about the human connection to the moon are largely myths, there are some grounded, scientific studies showing the moon tangibly affects life on Earth.
A study published in Science of the Total Environment found:
“Many factors affect sleep, including age, sex, illness, children, family status, exercise, medication and the environment. Based on this study, we can also say that the lunar cycle affects the duration and quality of sleep and that this effect is more pronounced among men.”
I know I have more trouble sleeping around the full moon, but it’s nice to hear I’m not alone with that and no, it’s not all in my head. What I find even more fascinating, though, is some scientists say life on Earth wouldn’t exist without the moon.
Earth sets over the Moon’s curved limb in this photo captured by the Artemis II crew during their journey around the far side of the Moon. Image courtesy of NASA
A Scientific American article from 2009 said, “Odds of nucleic acids forming on Earth without the lunar tides would be much lower.” I know it’s not a statement said with full certainty, and it allows for many possibilities, but still, we can flip it around and say, “It’s highly likely nucleic acids, the building blocks of all life, formed because of lunar tides.”
Another study backs this up. Published in the Journal of Molecular Biology in 2020, the researchers state:
“Starting with the beginning of the last century, a multitude of scientific studies have documented that the lunar cycle times behaviors and physiology in many organisms. It is plausible that even the first life forms adapted to the different rhythms controlled by the moon. Consistently, many marine species exhibit lunar rhythms, and also the number of documented ‘lunar-rhythmic’ terrestrial species is increasing.”
They add that the lunar cycle has been shown to synchronize a plethora of biological processes such as reproduction, photosensitivity, migration, and more. “[P]robably the most spectacular and documented event orchestrated by animals according to the lunar cycle is certainly the mass spawning of corals,” they write. “Like inside a shaken snow globe, once every year, the barrier reef explodes with eggs and sperm, a few days after the full moon, during late spring/summer nights, a phenomenon even visible from space.”
In other words, the moon isn’t just a “pretty thing to look at,” it affects life itself. What I appreciate about this perspective is the reminder nothing is separate, nothing is removed. We are embedded in an ecosystem with constant relationality. We humans like to pretend we’re somehow exempt from the world around us. That we’re unaffected by the laws of nature. Like there’s “nature,” and then there’s “us,” when that’s patently false. We quite literally evolved in tandem with the moon.
Beyond being a cool little factoid, I’m touched by this perspective because it reminds me no matter how alone or isolated I may feel at times, I am deeply, irrevocably tied to something larger than myself. In this case, it’s the moon.
I dream of a world where we recognize the moon isn’t just a cool object in the sky. A world where we understand life on Earth likely evolved in direct relationship with the moon. A world where we realize we aren’t alone or exempt from nature. A world where we remember our deep ties to the moon.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m coming off a busy, high-energy week and weekend, and instead of forcing myself to keep going, I’m being gentle and doing the bare minimum. I can think of no more fitting post than this one from August 2020. Enjoy.
When I thought about what to write today, the answer that came to me was, “Take a break.” I think it’s both a missive and a message, meaning I need to take a break, but also other people need to take one too. I can’t speak for anyone else, but for myself, I notice right now with so many things happening in the world, so many issues vying for my attention, it feels irresponsible to take a break. That instead, I must fire on all cylinders all day, every day. I think it’s in part because there’s pressure in the external world, but also in part because it’s how I’m made.
I am a fire sign. Not just astrologically (I’m a Sagittarius), but also my ayurvedic dosha is pitta. I want to “do” all the time. Resting is the complete antithesis of my natural tendencies, but it has become clear to me that resting is of the utmost importance.
This cat gets it. Photo by Aleksandar Cvetanovic on Unsplash
Back in 2013, I read Christine Arylo’s Madly in Love with ME, and she advised putting a hand on your heart every morning and asking, “What do I need today?” or “What do I need to receive today?” Today, anyway, the answer is “rest and recharge.” She also advises conducting an energy check-in to gauge how full your energy tank is. My energy level today is a 10. Christine says don’t give of yourself unless your energy tank is at 75-100.
I’ve gotten better at it over the years, but there’s still a part of me that pushes myself to do everything, anything. As soon as my energy tank gets even a little fuller, I empty it completely. But that’s not sustainable. I need to shore up my energy, allow myself time to rest, and to say no to things that drain me. It’s incredibly difficult for me to cocoon, to withdraw my energy from the world, to concentrate on me and only me. It feels wrong and selfish and uncomfortable.
I’m sure there are other people out there like me who are running themselves ragged. Not only is there pressure to do daily life things, but also to get out in the world, to make it a better place, to show up, to give. That’s real, but what’s also real is that regardless of what’s happening in the world, we deserve to rest because we are not machines (and even machines aren’t running all the time). We deserve to receive as much as we give. We deserve to take time out. We deserve to rest and recharge because that’s ultimately what serves ourselves and the people around us.
I dream of a world where we all take a break when we need it. A world where we balance giving and receiving. A world where we love ourselves so much that we treat ourselves with care. A world where we know we all deserve to rest and recharge from time to time.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
In less than a week, I’m pitching my book “A Stranger in a Strange Room” to two literary agents at an in-person writing conference. It seemed like a good time to remind myself of this post from February 2021. Even though I eventually shelved the romantic comedy mentioned here, the principle of “yet” still applies. Enjoy.
On Saturday, I remarked to some friends of mine that I’ve spent nearly a year querying literary agents for my romantic comedy, and no one wants to represent me. One of my friends chimed in, “yet. No one wants to represent you yet.”
That word snagged my attention because there’s so much hope and faith wrapped up in three letters. “Yet” implies not now, but in the future. “Yet” means something is coming. I’m struggling to believe that right now, not only with my novel, but also with other things in my life. There’s no evidence to support that what I want will be here soon.
My therapist reminded me I don’t have to believe what I want is coming to me 100% of the time. In those moments of doubt, instead, I can ask myself, “What if?” What if there’s a literary agent out there who would love my novel? What if I could afford a beautiful house to live in? What if? Asking that question allows for possibility instead of shutting down hope.
Waiting, waiting, waiting. Photo by Artem Maltsev on Unsplash
I also think about a quote from my spiritual teacher. He said, “The firmness of a person’s resolve makes one great. However lowly a person may be, one can become great by one’s determination. If you have a firm resolve to realize your goal, you shall become great. Without a firm resolution, you cannot achieve anything.”
Maybe a little bit of what’s happening here is my determination is being tested. How badly do I want these things? How much am I willing to overcome obstacles to achieve them? Am I someone who gives up when any problem arises? Or am I willing to struggle against all odds until my goal is achieved?
To be honest, it depends on the goal. The things I don’t care that much about, I’ll drop them at the first sign of trouble. If I don’t care that much in the first place and there’s a lot of effort involved, I’ll say “never mind.” However, if I care deeply, if I want something body and soul, I will keep plugging away until it’s clear I need to stop or pivot. And until that becomes clear, I’ll be over here remembering that small but mighty adverb “yet.”
I dream of a world where we remember that just because we don’t have what we want at the moment doesn’t mean we never will. A world where we remember mighty tasks are bound to have mighty obstacles. A world where we keep trying until it’s clear we should stop. A world where we use the power of yet to keep us going.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.