“I. You.”
I experience myself as only I am able. I know myself in ways I will never know you. Therefore, “I” is a solid circle, as it is the whole experience of me.

We may laugh, cry, fight, or make love, but ultimately, I will never fully know the experience of being you. My experience of you, for as rich as it may be, will always be how I experience you through my senses of sight, sound, touch, taste, and that intangible we call relationship. My experience of you will always be but a shell of who you really are. Therefore, “you” is an open circle, a shell around your core.

“To be.”
The richness of this human existence may be expressed best as the ebb and flow of our emotions, our perceptions, our comings and goings into the various realms and depths of self-awareness. Being human is never a stagnant thing, nor is being human a variable ever decreasing or increasing, for we hourly, daily, annually rise and fall to our creative potentials and our reptilian cores. Therefore, “to be” is an uncertainty, a relative unknown, a wave.

“I am …”
We spend our entire lives describing our experience of being human to one another. We do this through verbal conversation, through our body language too. We express our experience of this relatively short time through the subtleties of endorphins released when courting a mate or running a race, and the bold release of sadness, anger, pain, and fear.’

I want. I need. I can or I cannot. I will or I will not. And when we attempt to control others, You will or You will not. Sometimes we stop long enough to reach out and ask, What do you need?

But ultimately, if we remove all the layers of where we are in the moment, the volatility, the passion, the wants and the needs, we are left with a very elemental central theme that likely perseveres throughout our entire life.

Everything we want, need, can or cannot do, even those things we demand from or give to others is a reflection of who we are. Therefore, central to iConji are the two most important characters, “I am” followed by the uncertainty of what we will do next, “…”

When you use iConji, stop long enough to consider who you are. You may send the character for ‘beer’ and a clock and a question mark with attached Notes for the time and place, but even in that simple request that your friend meet you for a drink in the evening at your favorite pub, you have in that moment said, “I am …” or in iConji:

As there may come a day when I am no longer able to stand, when I am unable to do more than watch others move across the land, this is what I do, simply because I can:

I stand when given an option to sit.

I walk when others choose to stand.

And I run whenever I am able, simply because I can.

I see blind faces,
long faces,
sad faces,
empty spaces in the souls of those who walk the streets of London.

SHADOW
I am your shadow. You give me form.

Each day I move from West to East,
always in cool opposition of the intangible sun.

While you stand strong, anchored to the earth and rock,
I stretch, spread, and roll across the varied terrain.

In your image I explore, casting your
shape upon everything I touch.

But on those overcast days,
I am lost to you. I fear
I will exist no more.

Then the sun returns, my definition restored.

Each day the sun sets and I reach to
distant lands which you can see
but will never explore.

I am your shadow.
You give me
form.

TREE

You are
my shadow.
I give you form.

We move together
at the demand of the wind.

I am anchored in rock and stone,
but you are free to roam.

Yes, when the rains do come
and I pull the ground water into my veins,
you are lost, melted into the overcast glow.

But the sun always returns, our definition will
again be restored.

Despite my long branches and tremendous roots,
it is you that fills my imagination with places I
cannot explore.

You are my shadow, I give you form.

Herb Brokering, writer, poet, activist of a subtle means, and world traveler, died this week. This is my tribute to a man who heavily influenced my life, and the lives of countless more.

The Real Reason the Wall Came Down
In 1993, just four years after the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, my family and 15 others from across the U.S. ventured to Germany and Poland under the leadership of Herb Brokering and Rolf Bell.

We started our journey in East Berlin, a city whose skyline was then filled with yellow cranes, a round-the-clock effort to once again unite a people who had been torn from each other under a harsh rule.

While I was fascinated by the reconstruction efforts which used computer generated models of churches to replace each mammoth, hand-carved block based upon a calculated trajectory from an unknown original position, it was the stories we received, translated from German to English by Herb and Rolf, that remain with me this day.

I recall a woman in her late 80s, I believe, who told of surviving a massive fire and the subsequent years under stifling rule, always living for the day her people could again be free. Herb’s translation, even his presence was transparent, for it is her voice and her words that I recall.

From those who had lived through the separation and then reunification of Germany, we learned how much had occurred, for years, behind the political and economic fronts, to bring down that wall.

The churches provided some level of sanctuary, a place where people could meet and talk more freely. There were countless thousands of people working together, in often subtle ways, to apply pressure from the inside. We learned of candlelight vigils, marches, and protests which put people’s lives at risk, but gave rise to an unstoppable force.

One night, at a theater production in Prague, the actors came to the stage and instead of performing, demanded that the attendees in the audience rise from their seats and join those outside, on the streets, in protest of that which could not be allowed any longer. They did, and the people marched.

It was not Ronald Reagan’s, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall,” speech alone, nor was it political sanctions, nor the looming shadow of military might that toppled the Wall. It was everything combined. There are countless thousands of untold stories of those who worked at a personal level, granting people the vigor, the courage, the perseverance to push through those hard times and hold on to their dream of a better future that finally gave the Wall permission to come down.

Herb, as much as any president or political leader helped make this happen. He lead several trips behind the Iron Curtain in years when few were allowed into the then East block countries. He brought people together from otherwise disconnected worlds in order that their stories could be told, their steadfast determination shared, and hope maintained. Those who received the stories returned to their homelands and applied pressure from the outside, through letter writing campaigns, the retelling of stories, the application of social pressure.

Projects Inspired
After Germany, we traveled to Salmapolska, Poland where my father, mother, brother and I worked with brick and mortar and stone to further the construction of a new church and outdoor amphitheater, presided over by energetic, fun-loving pastor Jan Byrt.

Two years later, in the spring of 1995, I traveled again with Herb to Germany and Poland where my then wife Heather and I designed and built a 2,000 square-foot playground for the same church, a massive project which involved volunteers from seven countries and a month of construction.

It was Herb who worked to heal both international and personal wounds, that continues to inspire me to maintain a life of volunteer work. If I may uphold just a fraction of what Herb accomplished in his lifetime, I will have lived a good life.

Thank you Herb for all that you gave to us, everywhere you traveled.

w/Love,
kai

ELCA News Service
12 November 2009

Herb Brokering, Lutheran Hymn Writer, Author, Poet, Dies

CHICAGO (ELCA) — The Rev. Herbert F. Brokering, pastor, author, lyricist, speaker and hymn writer of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA), died Nov. 7 of congestive heart failure at his apartment in Bloomington, Minn., according to his son, Mark.

“Herb Brokering’s legacy includes carefully crafted words on the lips of believers gathered around the means of grace. He has helped us bring our faith to rich expression,” said the Rev. Michael L. Burk, bishop, ELCA Southeastern Iowa Synod, Iowa City. While ELCA director for worship, Burk oversaw the churchwide “Renewing Worship” project, which developed the ELCA’s new series of “Evangelical Lutheran Worship (ELW)” resources.

Born May 21, 1926, in Beatrice, Neb., Brokering graduated from Wartburg College, Waverly, Iowa, in 1945. He earned a master’s degree in child psychology from the University of Iowa, Iowa City, in 1947 and a bachelor of divinity degree in 1950 from the Evangelical Lutheran Theological Seminary (now Trinity Lutheran Seminary), Columbus, Ohio.

Brokering pursued graduate studies at the University of Kiel and the University of Erlangen in Germany, and at the University of Pittsburgh. Warburg College, Trinity Seminary and Concordia College, Austin, Texas, presented Brokering honorary doctorates. Wartburg and Trinity also recognized him as a distinguished alumnus.

While in Germany after World War II he worked with the Lutheran World Federation services to refugees. He served as pastor of Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, Pittsburgh; Incarnation Lutheran Church, Cedarhurst, Long Island, N.Y., and St. John Lutheran Church, San Antonio, Texas.

Brokering was director for confirmation education with the former American Lutheran Church, Minneapolis, 1960 to 1970. He became a free lance educator, writer and consultant working in the United States, Europe and Japan. He wrote other popular Lutheran hymns such as “Earth and All Stars!”, “Praise, Praise! You Are My Rock”, and “Alleluia! Jesus is Risen!” Brokering co-directed the film, “Where Luther Walked” in 1981. He also taught at Luther Seminary, St. Paul, Minn., for several years.

Brokering was a promoter of healing, justice and peace, leading more than 100 pilgrimages in his lifetime to places in Europe, the Middle East, China and India. The East German Ministry of Culture presented him with a peacemaking award.

He authored more than 30 books for Augsburg Fortress, the publishing ministry of the ELCA, and more than 100 lyrics for almost 60 composers.

“Herb was a gifted poet, author, speaker and composer. He was also a delight — a man who cared deeply about his God, his family, his many friends and this publishing ministry,” said Beth A. Lewis, Augsburg Fortress president and chief executive officer.

“Herb was the youngest octogenarian I’ve ever known. Even as his body aged, his mind was young, and his curiosity and joy in living each day fully was reflected in his sparkling eyes. He will be missed by all of us at Augsburg Fortress who were privileged to work with him,” Lewis added.

Brokering married Lois Redelfs in 1950. She preceded him in death in 2004. They are survived by their children — Mark, Beth, Jon and Christopher. Shortly before his death, Brokering established the Herbert and Lois Brokering Healing Arts Endowment Fund at Wartburg College to support activities promoting the healing arts.

I am of the growing belief it is impossible to maintain a connected conversation, to push into the depth of contemplation, to gain awareness beyond that of the immediate–while chewing gum.

With only so many words
A friend recently engaged me in an interesting discussion initiated by her receipt of an email from inspirationpeak.com. The question went something like this, “What if everyone has only so many words inside … sooner or later you’d run out of words … and you’d never know when it was going to happen because everybody would have a different allotment. I could be in the middle of a story, run out of words … and never finish.”

I responded as follows:

As an engineer I would calculate the potential of my life span and divide the number of words remaining over the number of days, careful to use only the allotted number per day. If one day required more, then I would conserve for the next.

As an inventor, I would create a new way to communicate such that words would no longer be required.

As an entrepreneur, I would package my words by verb, noun, and modifiers and then sell them to those who are in need of more.

As an linquist, I would warn people of the hazards of using too many words at one time and the pending future in which words no longer exist.

But as an artist or perhaps as a lover, I would dump all my words into a single time and place simply because it felt right, with no fear of a mute future. I would live in silence for my remaining days knowing that my voice was consumed by an act of passion which no number of words could ever recreate.

Sometimes the effort to hang on is simply too great, and we fall.

Sometimes the path we follow does not lead where we desire, and we are trapped.

Sometimes the choice is made for us, and we are defeated.

But sometimes accepting the potential of nothing is the path which leads … to everything.

Grand Illusion, Grand Connection
Some ten years ago I read a book titled “The Holographic Universe” by Michael Talbot. The concept for a holographic universe is built upon research conducted in 1982 by Alain Aspect and his team to disprove Einstein’s premise that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. Indeed, Aspect and his team demonstrated that under certain circumstances subatomic particles appear to communicate instantaneously, which is according to the Theory of Relativity, impossible.

It is not, however, assumed that something is literally transmitted between the disparate particles, rather they are in fact two views of the same particle, meaning it is our point of view that is unique, not the particles themselves. This is explained through David Bohm’s theory that our experience of a three dimensional universe may be a projection, an illusion of sorts, built upon a two dimensional existence.

Talbot writes, “If the apparent separateness of subatomic particles is illusory, it means that at a deeper level of reality all things in the universe are infinitely interconnected. The electrons in a carbon atom in the human brain are connected to the subatomic particles that comprise every salmon that swims, every heart that beats, and every star that shimmers in the sky. Everything interpenetrates everything, and although human nature may seek to categorize and pigeonhole and subdivide, the various phenomena of the universe, all apportionments are of necessity artificial and all of nature is ultimately a seamless web.”

If we can learn to be conscious of this, we can experience a level of interpersonal, even universal connection that may transcend space and time. This concept was cornerstone to the more recent movie, “What the Bleep Do We Know!?”

Thinking about Thinking
The Holographic Universe continues, discussing how the human brain stores information in a manner similar to that of a hologram, the data not laid down in a serial fashion, one bit of our daily experiences after the other, rather, a fairly thin, wide distribution of data across the whole of those portions of the brain capable of storage.

Using memory loss as a means of understanding memory retention, the book explains that when people suffer physical trauma to the brain resulting in memory loss, there is not a precise hour or minute at which the memory stops, a gap, and then starts again. It is instead an indiscreet blank time, often with a fuzzy beginning and end. And with time, many of these memories are recovered.

If our life experiences were in fact stored in a linear fashion, one bit of data after the next throughout the multi-faceted, complex layers of our cerebral tissue, then if any portion of that grey matter were removed, yes, the memory loss would have an exact stop and start time with no chance of recovery.

A hologram is comprised of a complete image copied across many frames, each capable of recreating the whole. When all are illuminated and focused by means of a tuned laser, a complete three dimensional image is reproduced. If any one frame is lost, the overall image remains in tact.

For my own understanding, I consider a RAID5 array in which data spread across three or more computer hard drives in such a fashion that one drive may be lost and the remaining drives may reproduce the complete image.

Why then do most of our daily experiences fail to be easily recalled while others are so completely embedded in our life experience that they may be recalled with clarity for many, many years?

I am by no means an expert in this realm, my knowledge of this field of study limited to a few publications prepared for the lay-person coupled with my own experience. But that experience is perhaps the best tool for understanding how I (and likely others) work, on the inside.

As described in my entry about an evening at the Morokoshi School, Kenya, that experience which will remain with me for a long, long time. And in the unfolding of that evening, I knew even then that I was creating a deeply seated memory.

The ability to do this, to not only live in the moment but also be aware of that moment unfolding (almost from a third party point of view) is something I have been working toward for some time. However, this eludes me far more often than not, the busy-ness of life masking the calm required for that level of awareness and connection.

Why did those few hours at Morokoshi become so deeply impregnated in my memory? I believe the answer is in the multifaceted layers of sensory input which were stimulated and subsequently layered and interwoven in my memory.

Sharp shadows were cast by the kerosene lantern mixed with the subtle hiss of gas as it moved from pressurized storage into light and heat. Steve, Cameron, and I spoke in hushed voices so as to not wake Rie who slept in the chair adjacent to mine. Only the outline of Steve’s dark face was visible; Cameron’s lighter skin reflecting the yellow light from the corner of the room. I shifted often, my chair’s seat cushion far too thin. Burning coal, rice, beans, greens, and sweet tea filled the room with a complex, grounding aroma. Metal forks and wooden spoons rattled against aluminum pots in the adjacent kitchen. The music born of my cell phone, the cast of Rent holding to ideals, friendship, and love.

My eyes, ears, nose, body, and heart were stimulated while my sense of time was put to rest. If just one of these were the sole recording medium, this event may be like any other in my life, recorded yes, but not easily recalled. Combine all of them into a complete experience and I recall with intimate detail every aspect of those few hours, each of my senses able to re-invoke the experience as a whole. Listening to Rent, drinking sweetened tea, a phone call with Cameron or Rie, photos, even an email from Steve and I am back in Kenya. I smile for the depth and power of these memories.

A Wrinkle in Time
So what happens if the power of this experience is shared by more than just three or four people, but by dozens, even hundreds. Is it possible that the memory could be impregnated in more than just a human brain and body? Could the fabric of our universe contain more than what we are currently able to measure through collisions in particle accelerator chambers? What if there is a layer of data transmission and archiving which is always present, yet seldom noticed by the vast majority of humans?

The Holographic Universe moves from a description of scientific methodology into a more experiential description of how this world may yet contain a little … magic, a level of connection which we cannot fully explain.

Super collider sparks super conversation

MY BROTHER JAE ASKED
> So can this (www.cnn.com) really work?
> What would the black holes be like?

I RESPONDED
> Black holes may exist where a highly dense organization of mass is
> ample to cave in on itself. But for a black hole to continue to grow
> it must acquire mass … else, it collapses …
>
> So, if a black hole is so small that during its brief existence it
> cannot actually obtain any matter around it, then it burns out. The
> black holes this machine could create cannot gobble galaxies, let
> alone an arm chair in the office of the observer, for they are only a
> millionth of an inch across with about as much gravitational pull as a
> baseball on a moth. Nothing.

JAE INQUIRED
> even at that, where does the matter go that gets sucked in? let’s
> say an arm chair was sucked in, where would it go?

I RESPONDED
> So that is the interesting part. Some theories show a wormhole to
> another part of our universe (which would be a white hole, a place where
> matter just appears for no apparent reason) or into a parallel universe,
> the strength of the field energy enough to collapse the space-time
> continuum and bring two universes in contact.
>
> Let me get an expert … hold on :)
>
> kai

Hi Guys

Nice to “meet” you, Jae.

What Kai has described so far is pretty accurate. As far as the question of where the matter that a hole swallows goes, it is not completely understood because the interior of a black hole itself is not completely understood. This opens the doors for a lot of speculative ideas, including what what Kai mentioned. However, if you want to stick to what is generally accepted by physicists, here goes —

The problem with the black hole interior, is that it contains a mathematical singularity or an infinity. The reason for this infinity is that once matter has collapsed enough (i.e. become dense enough) that an event horizon has formed around it (i.e. a black hole has formed) it can be proved that the matter has to keep getting compressed indefinitely. In simpler words, because gravity is so strong for a such a compact object, it has to keep collapsing under its own weight — indefinitely. Nothing can stop this gravitational collapse. So, what is the end result of such a process? It would have to be a mathematical infinity — because it would eventually end up as a point (zero-size) with all that mass — the physical density (mass per unit volume) would literally be infinite! And we don’t think that Nature has real infinities floating around, so we know that is a serious problem in our understanding.

This infinity is also the reason that we can’t tell what happens next. Imagine you had a computer simulation crunching the numbers that follow the process of gravitational collapse. When the simulation would reach that infinitely dense state, the numerics would simply fail because they wouldn’t be able to handle a genuine, physical, infinity. This is the root cause of why our understanding of the interior structure of black holes is stuck. In addition, if you added more matter into the hole, it would also eventually settle in with the interior singularity!

There is hope though. We actually know why we encounter this problem — we even expected it! The reason is that in this picture we’re ignoring the Physics of the small i.e. quantum physics. The hope is that if we correctly incorporate both gravitational and quantum physics concepts — we wouldn’t have this problem.

Now, the problem of “quantum gravity” as needed here, is a big open problem in theoretical physics. Its over 60 years old and even individuals like Einstein and Feynman have tried their luck at it — with no success. The only thing that has come close, is String Theory, but that too has major issues of its own. I actually work on an approach to quantum gravity myself (with collaborators, of course) — one that is less ambitious and less radical when compared with String Theory. And we are trying to answer these types of questions in the context of that theory. This theory is called “loop quantum gravity” or “quantum geometry” and it is showing lots of promise. One of the cool results (results, not assumptions) of this theory is that space-time is fundamentally discrete (at a very small scale)! This is a radical shift from how we normally think of space and time, and is likely to help us address a host of current problems in theoretical physics. Stay tuned ;-)

Sorry this became somewhat long. But, I hope this helped a bit ..

Regards,
Gaurav

———————————————–

GAURAV KHANNA
UMass Dartmouth, Physics
http://gravity.phy.umassd.edu/

“Black holes are where God divided by zero.” – Steven Wright