I yanked a hard left into the visceral underworld of a freeway interchange. In the shadowy u-turn, I glimpsed a wide-eyed pigeon squatting on the low concrete divider inches away from the wheels of my truck.First impression--That pigeon is odd. Far from the safety of a high wire or window ledge, it was spread out on the cement. Comfortably. Second impression, It's a she. As if sitting on a nest and warming eggs, "she" calmly pecked about at imaginary twigs and grit. Last impression--The bird can't fly. I cleared the u-turn and careened into the feeder lane under the white noon sun.
Pigeons eat, sleep, fly, perch, preen, crap in the air and breed. They're not clever, they take refuge on high ledges, they'll get the drop on you. What struck me, however, was the force of the bird’s natural aplomb. The pigeon, plopped on the pavement, projected complete confidence and poise. It portrayed perfect equilibrium in the midst of howling traffic, appalling road noise, honking, speed freaks, screeching tires, heat and dust.
I couldn't help but impute some category of the universal to this particular bird and its strange posture. By characterizing it as EveryPigeon, I formalized my impressions. Using allegory, one can rescue a pathetic figure from folly and elevate it to the level of prototype or symbol. Who was the pathetic figure being elevated--me or the pigeon?
Self-reflection is a uniquely human attribute, the possession of this faculty implying that human beings should be good at concentrating on ideas apart from other persons and mere things. Reflection on the past is like scrutinizing one's complexion before the mirror. We view the past with some detachment, sometimes embarrassment.
The sacredness of memory is never more apparent than in its tragic loss. Talk to the amnesiac who by losing his memory has lost his identity as well. He longs to retrieve the data of his own biography in the hope of discovering his identity and history as well. Whatever one might say about recognition and memory, a constant theme emerges from the lives of human beings: No one wants to live below his proper spiritual level.
It’s not enough to remember a memory. One has to enter it, cautiously and respectfully, experiencing the tension between self-deception and self-reflection.
If one is self-deceiving, his examination of memory will be self-conscious and manipulative. In fact, it won’t be self-reflection at all. Absent objectivity, he will not be able to reconcile his conflicted humanity with the demands of humaneness. He will troll his idealized past foolishly hoping to validate his corrupted present. His memories will betray him. He will see in them the reflection of an ambivalent person confusing heroism for parasitism and reason for emotion.
If one is self-reflective, he will examine his memories objectively, situating them in the context of personhood and community. Self-reflection is good for its own sake. It requires a fairly high degree of intensity and therefore is most beneficial in an atmosphere of silence. A human being is at his best when he is engaged in thoughtful consideration of his life.
He takes a memory in his consciousness, sometimes personally chosen, other times put before him, and turns it over, feeling it, conserving its form and shape. He looks at it directly and from different perspectives. Who am I? What is the meaning of my life? Who am I to others? How will I be remembered? Intuiting from nature that the lesser leads to the greater, he will ask, What lies beyond death?
The pigeon's odd performance afforded me a small opportunity to reflect on the capacity of living creatures to live harmoniously in their surroundings, peacefully pursuing the hard-wired scripts called instinct, making choices within the limitations of their intellectual processors and, at the end of the day, finding rest.
Human beings are irresistably compelled to interpret. Significantly, self-reflection invokes the metaphysical in the sense that it contextualizes mere memories and even the procession of time, offering splendid possibilities for the integration of art and science, faith and reason. It is through the human capacity for self-reflection and contextualizing that we perceive God’s enduring recognition of us as individuals.
In the main, human beings everywhere accomplish the ordinary things of life with the same kind of breathtaking aplomb observed in a relentlessly common gray-brown pigeon sitting on concrete in a storm of traffic. Should we perhaps become discouraged at all the hubbub about us, dissatisfied with the past and anxious about the future, we might reflect on the impressive fact that, in order to survive, a pigeon must reconcile itself to an alien environment of mortar, steel and glass.
Would that human beings could--encompassed by brick and stone, so devoted to glass and steel and plastic--more easily withdraw from the unnatural uproar and turmoil of urban living, to seek the surpassing peace which comes from honest and thoughtful self-reflection. I will send you a pigeon if you need one.
No comments:
Post a Comment