Jojo and Rick

I just finished reading Jane Goodall's book My Life with the Chimpanzees with my children.  We loved the book, and highly recommend it.  There are so many beautiful stories and moments in this book, and I'd like to share one that I loved because it so clearly shows the profound intimate connection that can be formed between human and a non-human animals.

Rick Swope is a truck driver.  Once every year he takes his family, his wife and three little girls, to the zoo.  In this zoo lives a chimpanzee called Jojo.

Jojo was born in Africa.  When he was about two years old his mother was shot and he was sent to North America to a zoo.  For some years he lived with a little female called Susie, but then the zoo director sold her to another zoo and Jojo was left alone.  This was very cruel, although maybe the director didn't understand.

For the next eight years or so Jojo lived in a small cell with steel bars and a cement floor.  Then the zoo raised lots of money to build a huge enclosure.  They bought nineteen other chimps.  They introduced them all to one another, and then they let them out into their new home.  The chimps couldn't escape because there was a moat filled with water around the enclosure.  Chimps don't swim.

After a while, a fight broke out.  One of the new males challenged Jojo.  Well, Jojo didn't know anything about fighting.  How could he?  He lived all those years alone.  In his fear he rushed into the moat.  He didn't know anything about water, either, except as something to drink, from a cup.

In his fright, he scrambled over the safety barrier that had been put there to stop chimps drowning in the deep water beyond.  He disappeared under the surface, came up gasping for breath, and vanished again.  Twice more he surfaced, and then he was gone.  There were only some decreasing ripples on the surface of the moat.

On the other side of the water was a little group of people, including a keeper.  He knew Jojo weighed 130 pounds.  He knew male chimps can be dangerous.  He just stood and watched.  But luckily for Jojo, that was the day for Rick Swope to be at the zoo.

Rick jumped in.  The keeper tried to stop him, but Rick pulled away.  He swam about in the murky water, feeling for Jojo, then managed to heave the limp, heavy body onto his shoulder.  Somehow he scrambled over the safety barrier.  He pushed Jojo onto the bank and turned to go back to his wife and kids.  They were really scared.

Suddenly Rick's family and the keeper began yelling at him to hurry.  Why?  Because charging down the bank toward Rick were four of the big adult males.  Hair bristling.  Teeth gleaming as they screamed.  Rick was a stranger-- perhaps the four males thought he was hurting Jojo.

Rick paused.  He saw the four males looking enormous as they charged down toward him. He also saw that Jojo was sliding back into the water.  The bank was too steep.

For a moment Rick stood there.  He looked back at his frightened family.  He looked up at the four males.  He looked down at Jojo vanishing into the moat, and he went back to Jojo.

He pushed him up out of the water again and stayed there to stop him from sliding back.  The four males did nothing.  They stopped and watched.  After a few minutes Jojo raised his head, and some water came from his mouth.  He staggered to his feet, took a few steps, and lay to rest where the ground was level.

Rick saved Jojo's life.  The whole incident was captured on tape by a woman who happened to have a video camera with her.  That evening her piece of film was shown on the networks across North America.  The director of my institute saw it and called Rick.

"That was a very brave thing you did, Mr Swope.  You knew it was dangerous-- everyone was telling you so.  Whatever made you do it?"

"Well," said Rick,  "I happened to look into Jojo's eyes, and it was like looking into the eyes of a man.  And the message was: Won't anybody help me?"

This beautiful story reminds me, again, how very deeply we can connect to other animals if we are aware and open ourselves to the messages around us.  And so often, it is with amazing and profound consequence.

Metaphor isn't just decorative language

Metaphor isn't just decorative language. If it were, it wouldn't scare us so much. . . . Colorful language threatens some people, who associate it, I think, with a kind of eroticism (playing with language in public = playing with yourself), and with extra expense (having to sense or feel more). I don't share that opinion. Why reduce life to a monotone? Is that truer to the experience of being alive? I don't think so. It robs us of life's many textures. Language provides an abundance of words to keep us company on our travels. But we're losing words at a reckless pace, the national vocabulary is shrinking. Most Americans use only several hundred words or so. Frugality has its place, but not in the larder of language. We rely on words to help us detail how we feel, what we once felt, what we can feel. When the blood drains out of language, one's experience of life weakens and grows pale. It's not simply a dumbing down, but a numbing.
― Diane Ackerman, An Alchemy of Mind: The Marvel and Mystery of the Brain

How and why to improve our sense of smell

 

The sensory experience of smell modifies our behavior and influences our actions and emotions, often  without us even being aware of it.  Eighty percent of the taste of food is derived by the sense of smell.  Human bonding is highly influenced by the sense of smell.  Our own smell is influenced by our psychophysiological state, and thus communicates to others the inner states of our beings.  Psychologists have long-known smell and memory are linked in multiple ways.  The sense of smell, in fact, is closely associated with the emotions.  Recall a time when a waft of a fragrance has taken you back in time and place where lies your strong association with the particular smell, and you are flooded with a particular associated emotion.  In fact, the condition known as anosmia, the inability to perceive smell, makes people more vulnerable to disease, including  infections.  

One can enhance the experience of the sense of smell by once or twice daily very gently massaging the inner nasal cavity with a small bit of sesame oil.   Here’s how to do it:

1.       Wash hands thoroughly.

2.       Gently blow your nose well.

3.       Put two drops of organic cold pressed sesame oil from a dropper bottle into your palm.

4.       Dip your little finger in the oil and rub the inside of the mucus membrane with that oil.

5.       Sniff in the oil once or twice. 

This lubricates the receptors in the nose and makes for a more heightened sense of awareness through smell.  We all inhale as much as two and a half tablespoons of irritants every day. This includes the man-made irritants like car exhaust fumes and perfumes, as well as the natural offenders like pollens, mold spores, animal dander, air-borne particles and dust. These irritants often get trapped in your nasal mucus membranes, and can cause nasal infections and often dull our sense of smell.

Sesame oil has antibiotic and anti-inflammatory properties, it also works as a barrier between your nasal passage and unwanted microbes. By applying sesame oil in your nasal passages, you help prevent these irritants from clogging up your nasal passage in the first place.

After about four weeks of nasal lubrication, you may find that you don’t want to stop. That’s a clear sign that your body is benefiting. Also you might notice:

• You start to feel less dryness and crusting in your nose.
• You have less congestion in your nasal passages.
• You may be less sensitive to pollutants and pollen.
• Your sense of smell is enhanced.
•  Your breathing is easier.
•  You are able to enjoy deeper sleep and feel more refreshed in the morning.

Minnie Remembers

God,
My hands are old.
I've never said that out loud before
but they are.
I was so proud of them once.
They were soft
like the velvet smoothness of a firm, ripe peach.
Now the softness is more like worn-out sheets 
or withered leaves.
When did these slender, graceful hands
become gnarled, shrunken claws?
When, God?
They lie here in my lap,
naked reminders of this worn-out
body that has served me too well!

How long has it been since someone touched me
Twenty years?
Twenty years I have been a widow.
Respected.
Smiled at.
But never touched.
Never held so close that loneliness
was blotted out.

I remember how my mother used to hold me,
God.
When I was hurt in spirit or flesh,
she would gather me close,
stroke my silky hair
and caress my back with her warm hands.
O God, I'm so lonely!

I remember the first boy who ever kissed me.
We were both  so new at that!
The taste of young lips and popcorn,
the feeling inside of mysteries to come.

I remember Hank and the babies.
How else can I remember them but together?
Out of the fumbling, awkward attempts of new
lovers came the babies.
And as they grew, so did our love.
And, God, Hank didn't seem to mind
if my body thickened and faded a little.
He still loved it.  And touched it.
And we didn't mind if we were no longer beautiful.
And the children hugged me a lot.
O God, I'm lonely!

God, why didn't we raise the kids to be silly
and affectionate as well as
dignified and proper?
You see, they do their duty.
They drive up in their fine cars;
they come to my room to pay their respects.
They chatter brightly, and reminisce.
But they don't touch me.
They call me "Mom" or "Mother"
or "Grandma."

Never Minnie
My mother called me Minnie.
So did my friends.
Hank called me Minnie, too.
But they're gone.
And so is Minnie.
Only Grandma is here.
And God!  She's lonely!

-Donna Swanson from Images, Women in Transition

It is our senses that frame the body of our reality

"The ability of the Western man to relate to his fellowman has lagged far behind his ability to relate to consumer goods and the unnecessary necessities which hold him in thrall-- possessed by his possessions.  He can reach out to other planets, but too often he cannot reach out to his fellowman.  His personal frontiers seldom, if at all, permit the passage of a deeply felt communication across them.  The human dimension is constricted and constrained.  Through what other media, indeed, than our senses can we enter into that healthy tissue of human contacts, the universe of human existence.  We seem to be unaware that it is our senses that frame the body of our reality."
-Ashley Montagu from the preface to the third edition of Touching: The Human Significance of the Skin

To begin to understand the gorgeous fever that is consciousness

"To begin to understand the gorgeous fever that is consciousness, we must try to understand the senses-- how they evolved, how they can be extended, what their limits are, to which ones we have attached taboos, and what they can teach us about the ravishing world we have the privilege to inhabit."
-Diane Ackerman from A Natural History of the Senses

Touch

"All animals respond to being touched, stroked, poked in some way, and, in any case, life itself could not have evolved at all without touch-- that is, without chemicals touching one another and forming liasons.  In the absence of touching and being touched, people of all ages can sicken and grow touch-starved.  In fetuses, touch is the first sense to develop, and in newborns it's automatic before the eyes open or the baby begins to make sense of the world.  Soon after we're born, though we can't see or speak, we instinctively begin touching.  Touch cells in the lips make nursing possible, clutch mechanisms in the hands begin to reach out for warmth.  Among other things, touch teaches us the difference between I and other, that there can be someone outside of ourselves, the mother.  Mothers and infants do an enormous amount of touching.  The first emotional comfort touching and being touched by our mother, remains the ultimate memory of selfless love, which stays with us life long."

-Diane Ackerman from "A Natural History of the Senses

Through sensuism to the non-duality of intimacy

The sensuist attends to sensual stimulation through the senses; it is a delightful experience.  In our busy day-to-day's, we find we attend to, pay attention to, very little.  Our senses have numbed.  The sun shines down to warm us, our children's little eyes sparkle up at us, a bird sings to greet the morning, our chicken curry dinner nourishes us and tastes exquisite.  But our chatty mind notices not, busily planning the day's activities, rushing us through morning traffic, creating lists, mourning past mistakes, stressing over upcoming deadlines.  It is our reality, the reality we create for ourselves, that is.

There is another way.  We can choose to more consistently experience the context of our life experience, instead of focusing our mind toward the contents.  In essence, we begin to observe our experience with full awareness.  We feel that cool breeze, we hear the neighbor's dog barking, we savor the glass of red wine at the end of the day; in our mind, we cease to interrupt the silence. 

Therein, we begin to tune in to our bodies better, and we come to more deeply understand our feelings and thoughts.  Furthermore, we more fully experience others and our environment.  Thus, learning to acknowledge and listen to our bodies, feelings, thoughts and images, and opening up to others and our environment, we can learn to disidentify from our bodies, thoughts and feelings, and we can reach a core in our being where we know what is true.  From this perspective, we begin to see the intricate web of relationships within which we participate as a pattern of connections whereby all is interrelated and connected.  At this point, we are prime to experience the non-duality of intimacy whereby we feel not torn within ourselves, and at one with what we previously considered "other."

I have reached this non-duality primarily through some of my most raw moments.  In essence, my shields were ripped from me; I was broken, I was in awe, I was in love with my children, I was terrified, I was pushed to my physical limit, I was filled with desire.  And in these moments, nothing stands between me and all that lies beyond; I have touched the numinous.  My boundaries have melted away, and I no longer experience the difference between me and the other.  These moments are so absolutely delicious;  I am at once electric and peaceful.  And these moments are also so difficult to come away from.  A life lived well indulges these moments often, and we, thus, turn to educating ourselves to get to this state of non-duality at will.  Visit www.galleryofthesenses.net for more information.

The Intimacy of Surprise

I love, love, love surprises; good surprises, that is.  But, alas, they happen to me far too infrequently...  And I must say, as I look back, a surprise absolutely brings me to a place of intimacy with the bearer of this lovely gift.  How so?

1. A surprise is a tangible representation that the "surpriser" has been positively thinking of and spending time planning a pleasurable experience for the "surprisee."
2. There is something childlike about receiving a surprise, play is involved.  There is a giddiness upon receipt, or, if the surprise is anticipated but not known, upon anticipation.
3. The "surpriser" is putting him or herself in a bit of a position of vulnerability in this offering of a gift; "will my anticipated recipient appreciate my offering," "how will he/she see me in light of this offering."
4. As a recipient, you are caught off guard without time to hold up any shield you might otherwise brandish, and you are, thus, ripe to be open to the deliciousness of intimacy.
5. If you regularly receive surprises by some wonderful gift-giver, it strengthens your bond, and you thus become inclined to positive inclination toward your "surpriser."  It is almost as if a light shines on this oh so considerate admirer because of this kindness that comes so regularly but at uncertain intervals.

 So I've convinced you, and you are eager to enhance your intimacy with the recipient of your affections, but how might you go about it in a sustainable way?  Afterall, sustainable is quite important if you are to do it with any regularity at all.

1. It need not be extravagant or expensive.  One day bring home some freshly picked wild flowers.  Another, offer a massage after your beloved has had a difficult day. Play a game of blindfold sensuism by blindfolding your partner and having him or her guess the type of flavors, scents or touches you offer.  Write a beautiful poem celebrating your love.
2. It need not be frequent.  Once a week, every other week, once a month is great.  But to maintain the element of surprise, it should be at variable intervals.
3. Consider what your "surprisee" likes.  Don't come home with tickets for the baseball game when you know your beloved adores the opera.
4. Make it whimsical.  Hearken your lover back to the carefree moments of childhood which so often feel so long ago.
5. Be committed.  If you start this worthy endeavor, don't allow yourself to let it fall away after a few months.  This will likely set you and your beloved up for disappointment after something beautiful has faded away.

How do you define intimacy?

I  have a question for you guys.  How do you define intimacy?  Merriam Webster defines intimacy as “familiarity, something of a personal or private nature” and it points to synonyms “belonging, chumminess, closeness, inseparability, familiarity, and nearness.”  Wikipedia states “Intimacy generally refers to the feeling of being in a close personal association and belonging together. It is a familiar and very close affective connection with another as a result of a bond that is formed through knowledge and experience of the other. Genuine intimacy in human relationships requires dialogue, transparency, vulnerability, and reciprocity.”  Wikipedia also points to “four different forms of intimacy: physical, emotional, cognitive, and experiential.” 

Physical intimacy is sensual proximity or touching.  Examples include being inside someone's personal space, holding hands, hugging, kissing, caressing, and other sexual activity. Emotional intimacy typically develops after a certain level of trust has been reached and personal bonds have been established… Cognitive or intellectual intimacy takes place when two people exchange thoughts, share ideas and enjoy similarities and differences between their opinions. If they can do this in an open and comfortable way, they can become quite intimate in an intellectual area. Experiential intimacy is when two people get together to actively involve themselves with each other, probably saying very little to each other, not sharing any thoughts or many feelings, but being involved in mutual activities with one another.

One of my favorite descriptions of intimacy is “into me see.”  And of course there should be some reciprocation to reinforce the intimacy.

But wait a minute, all this talk of intimacy and sex is only mentioned one time?  Isn’t intimacy synonymous with sex?  Well, no, it’s not, actually.  Sex, if done right, in my humble opinion, should be intimate.  But intimacy does not need sex.  So I’d like to impress upon you all that in understanding intimacy we are looking for sex, but so much more, as well.