Pouring
A tiny portrait of Spinoza, God and the universe
A friend and I were off topic. We were supposed to be talking about work, but instead joked about how my independent lifestyle makes it easy to navel gaze. He said:
“Sometimes, I can turn on the shower and instantly imagine all the infrastructure that makes hot water. Then I take a short shower and feel good about it. Other times, I just get under the water and say, sorry, California drought. I’m tired. We’re not going to think about this today.”
As a lover of long showers, I empathize. But imagine if we understood every piece of infrastructure. Imagine if we could see actions and consequences pouring out of faucets, light switches and highways. We’d feel less entitled to convenient things. We’d appreciate beautiful simplicity and streamline our systems.
I wouldn’t say I believe in God the way most American believe in God. But the first time I considered it was while reading Baruch Spinoza.
I oversimplify, but a few of Spinoza’s main points:
- God, nature, mind and body are part of the same universe (they are on the same plane of reality).
- If God is the source, everything is in some sense divine. To study the universe is to study divinity. +1 for math, science and literature.
- While humans believe they have free will, every action is a consequence of actions before it. Therefore, everything has been pre-determined and nothing is good nor evil. Everything just is. Our brains and tools are just too weak to see the actions leading to any moment.
If you read this as progressive, may I remind you that this man lived and died in the 1600s. He definitely got expelled from his religious community, the Renaissance version of Silicon Valley’s dropping out of school.
While being a philosophical badass and thinking about the mind-spirit all day, he earned wages making lenses and other scientific instruments. I vaguely recall rubbing my forehead over his complicated texts because he took his love of science far: he had a penchant for structuring philosophical arguments like geometry proofs.
What’s so remarkable about Spinoza is that he lived in a universe where science and divinity co-existed under the same roof. There’s one part of Spinoza’s argument that never sat well with me, though. As a free-spirited menace, I can’t stomach the idea that everything’s been mapped out. I do agree that we’re reasonably predictable products of our biology and environments. However, I latch onto little pieces of randomness, like gene mutations caused by errors.
Or, maybe it’s all a part of the plan, and you were supposed to read that.
So if it is intelligent and holy to think where our water comes from, just think: how groundbreaking it would be to talk to people and understand the experiences that tint the words pouring out of them. To see in an instant what’s made them and unmade them.
Instead we say, sorry. Because we are often tired. We assume that their actions have anything to do with us when they often don’t. And we feel entitled to certain homage and don’t think about healing each other.
But we could, the rest of the time.
