Zen Heart / Coyote Heart: The Philosophical Paradigm Shift

By Curtis Wilbur

EVERYTHING YOU KNOW IS WRONG... ...but that is okay. That's the way we operate. We can only model the universe, and everything in it. We can't sense everything. We sense things that aren't there. Our model will always be imperfect. We need a world view that is flexible, and we must have tools to make changes to that world view as we learn more about it. On top of everything else, it's increasingly clear that, regardless of whether there is a God or not, humans are spiritual beings. Faith is an essential component of a functioning being in a universe with so many unknowns. To maintain a civil society, we must share some level of common belief. Communication is essential, but our personal mythologies are as individual as we are. How do we bridge that gap? Join novelist and philosopher Curtis Wilbur as he takes us on a personal journey in discovery of the roots of his new philosophical paradigm: Coyote Zen

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Mar 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781678060152

Book preview

HEART

The Philosophical Paradigm Shift

By Curtis Wilbur

ZEN HEART / COYOTE HEART

The Philosophical Paradigm Shift

1st Edition Copyright © 2020 Curtis Wilbur All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-6780-6015-2

Acknowledgements

I’d like to take a moment to reflect on the journey this piece has taken and mention a few people who influenced its development. I am a very toxic person. Likely this pamphlet would never have been conceived of, let alone written, if this were not so. For that I owe my parents a great deal of the credit, and I acknowledge them here – probably the first and only time I will ever do that. That said, I’m not being entirely fair. They brought me into this world, and I did survive into adulthood. My father introduced me to scouting, which was actually an exceptionally good experience for me. He’s gone now, but certainly not forgotten. My mother, transactional narcissist that she is, considers herself the motivating force behind every success in the family, and for years – even now – labels me as the ‘devil child’ of her brood. I ran away from home once when I was 13, and got 25 miles or so away before I came to my senses and realized I needed a better plan. It took me 50 years, but I finally had that plan. I have successfully separated myself from her physically and I continue to work on the emotional part. In the intervening time, I have done a lot of soul searching, and this piece of literature stems partially from that.

I’d like to thank Jim Morrison, ‘word man’ of some note, for helping me visualize the silliness and arbitrary nature of literature. He succeeded in inflaming all my prose and poetry. Thanks a lot, Jim. Similarly, Douglas Hofstadter took that fire and poured pure acetone on it. I’d like to thank my high school English teacher, Sylvia Williams, who inspired my creativity and showed me where the boundaries were in creative expression. (Hint: there aren’t any.) I wrote my first short stories and poems in her class. To my best friend in high school, John Carnahan. (Where the hell are you, anyway?) We conceived of many a fictitious future together and drew all kinds of fantastic maps. He and I tried to visualize the reality where his brother, coming home from Vietnam, slept with his eyes open. To David Stubbs, my good friend for the summer of 1970, when we counseled Boy Scout camp together. Sailing on Huntington Lake, trying to smoke rope like total goof-heads, listening to the two Doors records we had over and over in the staff cabin, and inventing amazing literary constructs. (All of the sudden, nothing changed!) David went off to be a photographer for Sunset Magazine, and I don’t think we ever spoke again after I invited him to do ‘Rush’ with me in my freshman year at Stanford. I haven’t forgotten anything about those times, Dave.

One cannot get to almost 70 without likely experiencing parenthood, and I do have three very adult kids. I should mention them, without names of course; but trying to be a parent to them without the slightest hint of a good role model has been enlightening. I sincerely hope my own failures as a parent have not impeded their futures too much. But I will say that much of my thinking on our responsibilities as adults stems from my own experiences. They are all making their way as best they can, as am I.

With all my grousing, one might find it hard to believe that I have actually had some good role models to work from. I would like to acknowledge the guidance of current partner Marcella, friend Steve, and Grandfather Paul. I’ve learned so much from all of you. Finally, to the animals in my life: Olivia the gentle Abyssinian, Tooney the giant goofball, Kassy the border-crossing refugee, Shirley the scaredy-cat, and of course Sebastian – ruler of all he sees. (So much royalty in such a small package.) The love you have given; the lessons you have taught me in your compressed lives I cannot repay. I can only pay forward.

Preface

It’s been twenty-two years since this work was originally published on the old GeoCities homesteader page. This current version is finally headed towards bound book form. In the process, those of you who may have chanced upon this publication in its internet form will note some distinct changes. First of all, the free-form branching style of internet hypertext is gone. The story has returned to its original more linear form, and of course it is on paper. From here on, in order to make further modifications, more revisions/editions would be required. My guess is that future revisions are unlikely to happen, but no harm done. It will be a fitting capstone to the conceptual part of this story. Deeds and experience will continue.

The second difference is the incorporation of those experiences and resulting modifications to the original concept. As you will see in the following text, every model is wrong. Twenty-two years include some rather contradictory data from the original hypotheses. There will be content changes. I have included the original preface here as a view into the energized mind of a younger man confronted with both a philosophical challenge and a technological one. It may act as a prologue to the newer piece, in which we step back from the technological threshold but raise the philosophical bar at the same time.

Preface to the Original Internet Edition

This preface is especially for those of you who come to this work through the World-Wide Web. A whole new mechanism of creativity with regard to the written word has been, I should say, unwittingly created, through the use of hypertext. Books, as we knew them, are unerringly linear, and of course, we read in a linear fashion too. But this web-based version - publication if you will - is not designed to be consumed in such a manner. I gave up on trying to match this version with the hard-copy a couple of months ago. The two are travelling on diverging paths. I know that now. And it was time to let them go their separate ways. It’s all part of the paradigm shift.

There is a linear path through the document, but the opportunities for derailment will grow as this work evolves, bifurcating and branching as a tree grows. The other difference, which I have alluded to, is that unlike a book, this work is alive and growing. And unlike a book, it has no clear ending. Yes, there will be an end. My end, perhaps. Creations are inevitably tied to their creator. My hope is that the seeds of thought planted here will take root and find fertile grounds for independent growth. Because there is no clear time slice, I don’t guarantee consistency. That would be foolish, even if I wrote the whole thing over a short time. I learn, I change my mind. No matter - it’s all truth.

So be warned: Links may change or just basically be difficult to follow. In some cases, explicit links won’t exist at all. But special trinkets await those who dare to follow the clues. And who knows, you might actually have some fun. But for right now, don’t let me hold you back. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. So, take it.

Canis Latrans, December 1998.

A picture containing outdoor, field, nature, grass Description automatically generated

You, who have walked through the desert, who have faced the anvil of the Sun, how can you not know your name?

Part I: Introduction

A Question

Why am I writing this? These words are unlikely to reach many ears. Mostly I am writing this for myself. I am on a spiritual journey of sorts. I quest for a spirituality that makes sense - that requires no ‘leap of faith’. Once complete, or at least near complete, I want to convey my finds to the world. Why? Consider it a howl in the woods - hoping to hear an answering call. Hoping that there are others like me - that I am not alone.

I don't believe there are canned answers to spiritual questions. At least, they have never worked for me. With the world in the state it is in, I wonder if they have ever worked for anyone. Many of us are looking to words written long ago, hoping for an answer. And some find comfort, but that doesn't make it right - just comfortable. I am looking for an answer that fits me. And, although that answer may be uniquely mine, my journey is worth remembering. How can it not be? For there are different ways of looking at the world - the universe - than in the conventional sense, and maybe, just maybe, there are better ways for everyone.

Despite my lack of faith in words of the past, I realize some very important lessons about human nature have been learned through human history. Yet these lessons are destined only to be forgotten, and re-learned, and re-forgotten. The words lose their meaning. Why is that? Sometimes it seems like we are gerbils running a race in a wheel that just keeps turning. A lot of motion but going nowhere. In spite of everything we know now, history teaches us that it's all going to collapse into nothing.

I know, we've built up a very sophisticated society in the west. I grew up in it, and I'll probably die while the great industrial machine still chugs along full steam ahead. As individuals, it often seems this paradigm may last forever. But we know it cannot. Civilization has always given way to anarchy, and it will again. Chaos inevitably follows order. Looking in other parts of the world now, or in history, both ancient and not so ancient, one finds all the convincing testimony one needs that peace is and has always been a transient thing. What will we do, what can we do, when our complex social system becomes generally unsupportable? How much do we depend on this society for our physical and emotional well-being? Should I be worried for myself? For my offspring? More importantly, how can we avoid this cycle? I am strongly motivated to break this habit, for the sake of my children, and my children's children.

I am convinced that we are not God's little perfect creation, here to provide stewardship to the Earth, her plants and creatures. We can try our best, but so far, we've done very badly at it. Nor are we going to elevate to some higher plane. We are creatures ourselves; remarkably successful creatures; very competitive creatures, who bulldozed our way into the present day by subduing everything that got in our way. (Including, as it turns out, most of our predecessors.) The truth is that the world is now a much different place than it was before modern humans arrived, and most of that change is because of our presence. (Think about an almost endless list of extinctions, along with a bloody trail of habitat destruction.) But creatures we are. And we are subject to all the physical laws - we mortals. And we all eventually die.

This work is about the reality of human beings, and what we can achieve philosophically and spiritually despite that reality. We may see some unpleasant truths about ourselves along the way. I think that our ‘better world’ must be designed to manage humans as the physical creatures that we are, rather than denying it. We have to think of our whole selves – not just our ‘best selves’. We can’t be expected to ‘evolve’ out of the niche we currently occupy. Most scientists understand that ‘evolution’ requires both mutation and massive die-offs. I don’t think anyone wants that. Greed and fear may force nature’s hands. But I still believe we have the capacity to think and feel our way out of this cycle, and find a better way, in just the form and space we occupy right now.

Side Note: What is Truth?

Before we delve into the meat and potatoes, let us tarry a bit with terminology. ‘Truth’ versus ‘Fact’: You'll find I use the word ‘Truth’ frequently in this work, but ‘Fact’ very little. (Not at all, if I can help it.) For the purpose of this book, a fact is an absolute. If we assume that facts do indeed exist, then they must be difficult, if not impossible to find.

We must discard the notion that we will ever know any facts. In a sense, facts are the gods of our universe, if there are indeed more than one (or zero). Truth, on the other hand, is used here in a relative sense. When we rely on our own observations, we detect that certain things appear to be real. We can look at an animal and say, truthfully, that the animal is