I am reminded of the history of the written word as I read Stephen Greenblatt's thoroughly enjoyable The Swerve, deserved winner of The National Book Award.  Centuries ago, writing involved parchment.  It was rare and expensive, not for jotting, to be beautifully and painstakingly scribed upon.  It was a different world from ours, no pen and paper, no computer screens through which to share typed script.

And so, the meditative task that writing inherently is, as I might argue, began as religious thought and story (along with early scientific writing and histories), as the clerical organizations were entrusted with parchment and writing technology.  As history and writing progressed, religious story became embellished.  The developments of literature created the form of the morality play to lend presence to the discoveries of inner musings.  Wise people authored themselves into existence, outlining their inner revelations, as Christs and Buddhas.  They were teachers, able to rise above the preoccupations and realities of the day.  They saw broadly and without judgment toward others.

Writing establishes basic human truths.  It touches upon the main issues of life.  Stories and musings explore human psychology.  Whatever forms of writing we would create, the question would evolve, how to achieve a perspective outside, therefore wiser, than our own, in short, how to listen to what is the world telling us, beyond our own limited perspectives.  Writing would explore our highest thinking about the nature of the Ego.

Modern fiction, based in reality, took up, as did Shakespeare, the basic form of the morality play, the forms of myth and story.  Take, let's say, For Whom the Bell Tolls, adventure story set in wartime, but still not far away from the morality tale, characters personifying different attitudes and elements of human nature, as characters in modern times are multi-dimensional if they are to be believable and real to the reader.  Big questions as to what is the cost of Ego and what are the distortions it keeps are given form through character and personification.  On and on...  And any work of literature, say, Sherwood Anderson's stories, or Faulkner, or Tolstoy, that stands the test of time has, of course artfully, the tension of Ego within, as a deeper plot-line, sometimes hidden, as if not to take priority from more evident and palpable tension, but always there if you look for it with some sensitivity.

And so, perhaps for similar reasons as were involved due to the scarcity of writing materials and forms of paper, to garner the attention of readership, the basic exercise of writing--which is deeply meditative and not unrelated to things like yoga, along with other forms of art--had to have a plot, tension, characters, so as to have a raison d'être, so to be entertaining enough for the general readership fond of story and oral tradition.  So that it could then eventually all boil over and be placed on TV, ha ha.  The progression on up, or backwards, to Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ would only be logical, as if led by forces similar to those of the digestive tract.

Because of the inherent nature in writing, a million poets have sprung up, something perhaps anticipated in the East, reverent toward form, forms like the haiku, like the expressive form of the Tao, an emphasis on nature, on 'wisdom,' less on the individual practitioner and personality.  In the Western world of the individual, each person feeling capable enough of writing may launch individual attempts to gain perspective.   Perhaps it is necessary for basic sanity for the individual to give a take on the egotistical things we all can get carried away with, to provide an acknowledgement of our own sins and imperfections.  ("Headpiece filled with clay," as Eliot puts it.)

And so, our jobs, those places where we put up our egos to be subsumed if we are to act effectively... a lesson in politics, a lesson in life...  are a natural source for musings on paper, an exercise away from the usual discussions which are allowed in the situations.  Take the restaurant business, the basic fact of waiting on someone, bound to school one on Ego and to even encourage an amount of egolessness.

Great moments of literature take us here, as in the speech of the ghost of Hamlet's father elucidating upon his sins in life, standing out in the play, before we deal with the egotistical sins of the usurping brother, before bringing on the paradoxes furthered by Hamlet's own ego's attempts to bring justice to the matter, the creation of yet more living and present sins and sorrows.  The tension within Shakespeare, that it was all a great misunderstanding, certain parties abetting the misunderstanding through distortion, certain parties helping us toward the truth, the ego-free purity of the innocent, the recognizable quality of those who fall into the trap of misunderstanding, the punishment of the virtuous, makes him readable to the ages.  Lear and Cordelia are never far from us, even if we have a bias that we've thought of everyone fairly and thoroughly, a habit of media belief and righteousness, that we like to pin things down in order to feel calm and sane.  In truth, a great misunderstanding might be far more prevalent than we would think given our advancements.

Who have we ourselves judged?  What patterns of egotistical thought have we fallen into?  What illusions do we subscribe to in order to not feel a great loneliness?  What lamentable habits have we allowed?  What poor gentle beings have we unintentionally snubbed?  How to get out of it all but by some all-encompassing and present forgiveness of sins of the very kind salvation preaches, a day we all forgive ourselves and other people for acting, not so much out of any real fault or intention, like jerks?  How can one escape the great sadnesses caused by human stupidity and loneliness itself, without a great act of forgiveness spanning the globe?  What way to tell people, 'no, you were just seeing things incorrectly, and it wasn't your fault?'

Redemption, what else would we ask for?




(What would happen, one wonders, if we were ego-free?  What would we be like if we were 'self-less' and virtuous?  What would that look like as far as the individual first fitting into the economy and maintaining himself?  If a corporation were so staffed with ego-free people, what would that corporation achieve, and would it continue to exist and how?  How could you portray people and life with all other issues that people, normally selfish, must occupy themselves with subsumed?)

You get through the week, sleep it off, start the household chores and grocery lists.  You wonder, what a freedom from the ego would entail in this life.   How would you interact with other people?  Would you be preachy?  Would you lead by subtle example?  After it was all done, you might take a moment to write a few things down, to see where you came out.  Scratch the head, light some incense, take in some peace, but knowing deep down that there are other duties.