{"id":28302,"date":"2025-05-16T11:40:50","date_gmt":"2025-05-16T15:40:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/?p=28302"},"modified":"2025-05-19T12:06:15","modified_gmt":"2025-05-19T16:06:15","slug":"both-of-these-things-can-be-true-but-one-may-be-truer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/2025\/05\/both-of-these-things-can-be-true-but-one-may-be-truer\/","title":{"rendered":"Both of These Things Can Be True (But One May Be Truer)"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n

[Image: “New York shops don’t try to mislead you,” by Ed Yourdon. (Found it on Flickr<\/a>, where it was shared under a Creative Commons license — thank you!) I recognized the photographer<\/a>‘s name immediately: he was a very influential tech guy back in the 1970s, when I started working in software development. I had no idea he was also a prolific photographer… but, well, I guess both of those things could be true, eh?]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

From whiskey river’s commonplace book<\/a><\/em> (in slightly different form; below is the original):<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

Man becomes a historical animal<\/em> preoccupied with the past and the future, and here we encounter the strangest of paradoxes… The historical idea of self, the ego, requires a constant re-living of memories in order to sustain a continuity of its own. It is only aware of itself as a repeatedly up-dated autobiography. The ego does not actually exist — it is an illusion of continuity…<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So the conventional ego, the false passport, is built up from an edited picture album of our past. That version often seems more real than we are in the present moment. That is because here\/now we are in constant flux and flow, but what we have been<\/em> is nicely and securely fixed. The false identity is frozen throughout time, a final static noun. And just because it is unchanging we become more clearly identified with that identity card than we do with the real living, moment-to-moment entity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In order to support the new false self we have to become more and more identified with the past, with old knowledge and a fixed belief system which continue to bolster up our historical selves. And we forget there was ever anything else.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Yatri [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

Every time a thought is born, you are born. When the thought is gone, you are gone. But the ‘you’ does not let the thought go, and what gives continuity to this ‘you’ is thinking. Actually there’s no permanent entity in you, no totality of all your thoughts and experiences. You think that there is ‘somebody’ who is feeling your feelings – that’s the illusion. I can say it is an illusion but it is not an illusion to you.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(U.G. Krishnamurti [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

we must<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

we must bring
our own light
to the
darkness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

nobody is going
to do it
for us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the young boys
ski
down the slopes<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the fry cook
gets his last
paycheck<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as dog chases
dog<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the chessmaster
loses more than
the game<\/p>\n\n\n\n

we must bring
our own light
to the
darkness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

nobody is going
to do it for us,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the lonely
telephone
anybody
anywhere<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the great beast
trembles
in nightmare<\/p>\n\n\n\n

as the final season
leaps into
focus<\/p>\n\n\n\n

nobody is going
to do it
for us.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Charles Bukowski [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From elsewhere:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

This incapacity to die, ironically but inevitably, throws mankind out of the actuality of living, which for all normal animals is at the same time dying; the result is denial of life (repression). The incapacity to accept death turns the death instinct into its distinctively human and distinctively morbid form. The distraction of human life to the war against death, by the same inevitable irony, results in death\u2019s dominion over life.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Norman O. Brown [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

“There\u2019s a disadvantage in a stick pointing straight,” answered [Father Brown]. “What is it? Why, the other end of the stick always points the opposite way. It depends whether you get hold of the stick by the right end.”<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(G.K. Chesterton [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

Yes No Days<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every day he thought before he went outside.
If it was a yes day things would be
as they seemed. So everything comes true.
His face a lonely moon in the window, his
house resting on a quiet spine. It took
courage to step from a warm house
on a no day. The world might swing wrong,
and yes, a no day could become
a yes day, and vice versa. There were days
like windows facing out and faces wanting
back in. \u201cIsn\u2019t the sky nice?\u201d he hears
his mother say, so he lets go
of the cat who is right on the brink
of telling all she knows.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Ralph Burns [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

I was intrigued by the fact that even though I had learned that gravity pulls us toward the earth as we orbit the sun\u2014and that there is no real \u201cup\u201d and \u201cdown\u201d\u2014my feeling of being down on the ground below the sky had remained unchanged. To shift my perspective, I would sometimes lie outside with my arms and legs outstretched and take in as much of the sky and horizon as possible. Attempting to break free of the familiar feeling of being down here<\/em> with the moon and stars above me, I would relax all my muscles\u2014surrendering to the force holding me tightly to the surface of our planet\u2014and focus on the truth of my situation: I\u2019m floating around the universe on this giant sphere\u2014suspended here by gravity and going for a ride<\/em>. Lying there, I could sense that I was in fact looking out at the sky, rather than up. The delight I experienced came from temporarily silencing a false intuition and glimpsing a deeper truth: being on the earth doesn\u2019t separate us from the rest of the universe; indeed, we are and have always been in outer space.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Annaka Harris [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n\n\n\n

…and:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

Happiness<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There’s just no accounting for happiness,
or the way it turns up like a prodigal
who comes back to the dust at your feet
having squandered a fortune far away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And how can you not forgive?
You make a feast in honor of what
was lost, and take from its place the finest
garment, which you saved for an occasion
you could not imagine, and you weep night and day
to know that you were not abandoned,
that happiness saved its most extreme form
for you alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No, happiness is the uncle you never
knew about, who flies a single-engine plane
onto the grassy landing strip, hitchhikes
into town, and inquires at every door
until he finds you asleep midafternoon
as you so often are during the unmerciful
hours of your despair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It comes to the monk in his cell.
It comes to the woman sweeping the street
with a birch broom, to the child
whose mother has passed out from drink.
It comes to the lover, to the dog chewing
a sock, to the pusher, to the basketmaker,
and to the clerk stacking cans of carrots
in the night.
It even comes to the boulder<\/span>
in the perpetual shade of pine barrens,
to rain falling on the open sea,
to the wineglass, weary of holding wine<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

(Jane Kenyon [source<\/a><\/em>])<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

[Image: “New York shops don’t try to mislead you,” by Ed Yourdon. (Found it on Flickr, where it was shared under a Creative Commons license — thank you!) I recognized the photographer‘s name immediately: he was a very influential tech guy back in the 1970s, when I started working in software development. I had no […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":28308,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","h5ap_radio_sources":[],"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"activitypub_content_warning":null,"activitypub_content_visibility":"","activitypub_max_image_attachments":3,"activitypub_interaction_policy_quote":"anyone","activitypub_status":"federated","footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Charles Bukowski, Jane Kenyon, Yatri, et al.: 'Both of These Things Can Be True (But One May Be Truer)'","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[183,247,1393,250,4878,251,4159],"tags":[66,717,2180,3166,3957,4057,6064,6106,6118,6120,6121,6122,6123],"class_list":{"0":"post-28302","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-everyday-life","8":"category-ruminations","9":"category-whiskey-river-runningaftermyhat","10":"category-art","11":"category-fiction","12":"category-poetry-writing_cat","13":"category-essays","14":"tag-gk-chesterton","15":"tag-contradiction","16":"tag-paradox","17":"tag-jane-kenyon","18":"tag-charles-bukowski","19":"tag-life-and-death","20":"tag-yatri","21":"tag-annaka-harris","22":"tag-ed-yourdon","23":"tag-u-g-krishnamurti","24":"tag-norman-o-brown","25":"tag-ralph-burns","26":"tag-yes-and-no","27":"entry"},"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/newyorkshopsdonttrytomisleadyou_edyourdon_med.jpg?fit=1024%2C683&ssl=1","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6kZSG-7mu","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/28302","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=28302"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/28302\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":28316,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/28302\/revisions\/28316"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/28308"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=28302"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=28302"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/johnesimpson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=28302"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}