Of Modes and Meaning Making
Excerpts on conversations about the mythopoetic with Jason Silva and Erik Davis
In these strange times, it’s hard to make sense of the world. We are being asked to rest in serious discomfort and tumult. For a society that can put a man on the moon and create a pop-up city in the desert that then vanishes without a trace, can it really be that COVID-19 is turning life as we know it upside down?
Yes, of course, it can and it is. But remember: “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro,” as the inimitable Hunter S. Thompson once said. That’s why we turned to our philosopher friend and Burner Jason Silva to help make sense of sense making. Here’s a recap of the big ideas from our conversations and from his recent “Flow Sessions” podcast with Erik Davis. We hope this perspective helps you find some footing in a topsy-turvy world.
There are different ways of thinking and being — let’s call these “modes” — and it’s important we match the right mode to the right situation.
The Greeks called these two main modes “Kronos” and “Kairos.” Kronos is empirical, seeing the world through the lens of engineering, science, mathematics — he’s the practical thickener. Then there’s Kairos, which is the realm of the consciousness that exists outside of time. It’s poetry and poetic truth.
“Science describes accurately from the outside. Poetry describes accurately from the inside.” — Ursula K. Le Guin
There are some people, like Jason, who can balance both modes, but most of us have a dominant mode. For example, people who are pure Kronos might wonder about the nature of consciousness. They might rationalize that if you can’t measure it, then it doesn’t exist.
And then there are people who are 100% Kairos; those artists, writers, poets who see and appreciate the world through a totally different lens. This mode is perfectly captured in the scene in “Dead Poets Society” when Robin Williams tells his class:
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”— Dead Poets Society
OK. So some people think one way and other people think another way. What’s next? The key is matching the right mode to the right situation.
You know the feeling when setting up or taking down camp and you need to figure out the right geometric spacing for a functional kitchen? That would be a good time to summon your Kronos energy.
Conversely, when you’re watching the sun rise after a night out and you’ve lost everyone in your camp, and then by some miracle they bike up to you to share the glory of the moment? That would be the moment to embrace your Kairos side and drop that haiku you had been working out in your head. It’s a perfect match of mode and moment. Put another way: when you drive a manual transition, you switch gears based on RPMs. If you mismatch, you stall.
Jason says most people think their “modes” are interchangeable, but in actuality lines should be drawn around each one:
“We should distinguish the modes, church and state, the literal grid and the poetic grid, the science grid, and the mythopoetic poetic grid. I live for the mythopoetic, you know; I live for the fucking timeless. The art I make is meant to explore beautiful ideas. But I put a big fucking box around that, and I’m like, ‘I’m making art.’ I’m not calling it anything other than art, because when I play in the mythical poetic, I distinctly want to be outside of the default world. And as long as that line is super crisp, I can just be a playful and creative person versus a psychotic person.”
And yet, as distinct as these regions are, they still need to coexist. It’s about knowing the right time and place for each way of being.
Alright, but how can we apply these understandings into our own lives? (Because that’s what “Beyond Burning Man,” the publication this piece was written for, is all about: how we can take the lessons we learn on playa and bring them back into the Muggle world.)
The answer is: Balance and awareness. Jason poetically explained to me how it all comes together in his worldview:
“I know that I need to eat three times a day. I know that I need to go to the bathroom and metabolize food. I know that I need to lie down in a bed eight hours and fucking go to sleep. There are things that are non-negotiable in one mode. In fact, they’re nourishing; sleep and food are nourishing. Equally necessary and nourishing for me is to have mythopoetic and aesthetically oriented nourishment. So I need to listen to music that makes me cry. I need to disappear or lose track of my own boundaries. When I watch a movie, I need experiences of absolute immersion and unmixed attention. Diana Slattery has an idea that interpersonal transformation, education and/or persuasion takes place when you are completely absorbed in something. And so for me, the mythopoetic is a chance to surrender all agency into some aesthetic construct that will carry me away towards ecstasy, catharsis and communion. As long as I know what I need, I’m OK.”
If you’d like to watch the full discussion that inspired this piece, check out this episode of Jason’s podcast, “Flow Sessions.”
