On Solipsist Erosion: Part One in a Series.

introduction to erosion.

As time draws ever onward, and more and more peoples and societies find themselves displaced, I begin to notice the emergence of a pattern. This pattern applies whether we consider the philosophical and moral displacement of a society, or the physical and geographical displacement of a people. It is universal. I first recognized this universal pattern while observing the roots of mismanaged trees, and again while mathematically mapping decades of seemingly-chaotic toxic swamp formations which have long been pushed behind the bush in my local park system. This universal pattern is called "erosion."

In nature, erosion can be understood as a form of emergence via causal complexity (similar to a "synchronicity" in Jungian psychology, except that the cause is complex and multifactorial, rather than nonexistent). When one wishes to map a causally complex emergence, one must employ a branch of mathematics called "tensor analysis" (or Ricci calculus), which I will touch on in depth later. For now, understanding that this technique exists and that it may be used in this way will suffice.

Without even understanding it, erosion may be observed as a continuous occurrence: the constant redistribution of resources, through natural forces (such as wind, water flow, and even shoefall on soil), taken disproportionately from a given locale. We may observe various stages of erosion especially at the edges of any unnaturally formed body of water, or wherever humans habitually tread. Like a sandy warzone.

Consider the tree, whose roots have sat long exposed, and who has seen so many saplings mowed that she plunges herself into the man-made lake which crept right up and stole her mate. Gone is her shade, and with it, her shaky stability, too long downplayed and swept under her garden's green rug - a mossy facade at the face of the forest.

on solipsism.

Solipsism is a philosophical and epistemological position which holds, at its most extreme, that the self is the only thing of whose existence one may be certain. When Rene Descartes penned his seminal thought, "cogito, ergo sum" ("I think, therefore I am."), in its original French ("Je pense, donc je sui"), the groundwork was laid for Solipsism - and from there, for a number of other philosophical schools which accept cognition and reason as proof of existence.

Solipsism, alone, can be somewhat impractical, as it requires one to hold two poles as true: that oneself definitely exists, and that nobody else's self does. We can see how this sits at odds with a world full of shared phenomena. We have all (or most us have, anyway) discussed the beauty of a recent sunset with a friend or a lover. It strikes me that probably both observers exist, philosophical refutations aside for a moment.

While the philosophy itself can be unwieldy, its fragmented, fraternal twin mirrors are entirely too common in our world. These mirrors are named "nihilism" and "narcissism." Nihilism, named for the Latin word "nihil" (meaning "nothing"), is the philosophy that nothing really matters, and that no knowledge ultimately exists - even that of the self. Narcissism, meanwhile, certainly exists. Many of us have been exposed to narcissists, or to narcissistic behavior. So many of us have experienced narcissism that I consider it to be one of those previously mentioned "shared phenomena." Like a sunset.

Narcissism, named for the vain Greek youth of myth, Narcissus - who fittingly fell smitten with his own reflection - represents a second mirror to Solipsism. Differing from Nihilism, Narcissism manifests as the replacement of the non-self with an often-unquestionable false self.

on crumbling land.

When I look about me, I see fractured mirrors and crumbling land. I see moral decay and felled trees. When I broaden my horizons and look abroad, I see Ukrainians praying, Israel dropping bombs where Palestinians are laying, and I see Israelis and ethnic Jews who know no other place for their staying. Displacement, destruction, despair. I can see the appeal of nihilism in this abyss, and narcissism in that black mirror.

Silence in the face of villainy is complicity and cowardice. So, when I see my nation committing the atrocities and complicities we commit so often today, I feel compelled to speak.

As Noam Chomsky put forth in 1967, in his essay, 'The Responsibility of Intellectuals,' we thinkers who see bear some of the burden for the atrocities committed by our nations. When so much of the world sits ravaged by war and shock and genocide, it is we cushion dwellers, who sit in relative comfort who possess the privilege of calling an atrocity what it is. This is nearly impossible for a bomb survivor or war widow, whose entire being is under constant threat. PTSD makes it difficult to articulate anything. In whatever discourse we cushion dwellers participate, we owe it to the millions of sand-born babies who have been born in displacement or exile from lands ravaged and torn to do so in good faith, and with a mind to nudge the World Needle toward peace. We sowers of thought ought to seek to propagate solutions in the fertile soil - hearts and minds - which we are blessed to touch.

on nature.

It was Baruch Spinoza, in the 1677 treatise, 'Ethics,' who differentiated between natura naturata (nature natured), and natura naturans (nature naturing). Spinoza explored these concepts in the context of understanding God. I call them forth here with a mind to highlight what is, what is happening, and what I feel is our current misalignment as a species of planetary stewards from our collective natura naturans. Our "what we should be doing."

Let us think again of the tree who earlier plunged herself into the lake which never would have been. In this example, the tree, once a strongly-rooted member of its local community, now sinks to despair, having seen so many sweet saplings fall. Life seemed fruitless and unfair. So she took the plunge. This doesn't strike me as simple erosion, rather a metaphor for nihilism. Wherever a tree falls in the face of a man-made lake that shouldn't be there, it leaves behind a crater in its wake. Like a bombshell.

Man's having made that lake, and the subsequent erosion which has occurred since (including our nihilist tree) represents, to me, a kind of naturata. Recall that this word means "natured." That means that it exists (vs something which is coming to exist). This concept covers the present-day results of past actions. If the naturata of today is "crumbling, erosion, and decay," and we want anything to change, then we must ask ourselves what sort of naturata we will leave behind for future generations. That remains to be seen.

We are still living out our naturans. This may feel abstract, or even intimidating, but all I am saying is this: "It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings."

We'll dig more into Spinoza's naturans later. At this time, its chief significance lies in the truth that each of us alive today holds within the power to alter tomorrow's realities, however subtly.

on to the next.

Come what may tomorrow, our tree gave way yesterday. Whenever I witness a tree's falling, or consider the craters and the gashes long left in land the world over, I ask myself what might have prevented it. Concerning our nihilist tree, I see a line into history. You see, an erosion-fallen tree is one facet of the naturata of narcissistic (or even Solipsistic) land management.

The ents at Isengard agree with me. Their solution was to topple the narcissist tower, let empathy flood the land and fill their roots, then re-establish their interdependent tree community. What will our solution be?

When I view a future me, I see a dust-covered vessel placed at the base of a tangled tree, positioned centrally, in a forgotten courtyard at the center of an ancient forest. My vessel is surrounded by the ents' finest: sequoias and willows, oak and ash.

These roots run deep, and they sprawl and they reach, that their neighbors they might keep. When the maple's restless leaves whisper sweetness to the other trees, those who listen close to the empty in-betweens can hear the still beat of a long-stopped heart.

Where my silent-sitting vessel loudly lay, once a man worked every day. He toiled in muck and soil, taking only leaves and feathers as pay. He did this in hope that your descendants might keep on patch of un-hole-y land, where they may sleep, and they may play.

What do you see in your far-flung future when you squabble with your neighbor while foul nations poke holes in your nature? Will you wake one day, shaken by the realization that the last lighthouse now sits, ashen, at the root of an ash tree?

Or will you light your beacon off his ever-burning ember and step into your role as one of a forest full of sailor saviors?

I know what my future holds.

What will your legacy be?

Each of us is powerful. Like that Marianne Williamson poem, quoted in 'Coach Carter.' Even in those moments where we feel the most powerless, we retain our voices. We can always use those. I choose to use mine in this way:

• singing in harmony with the oppressed, othered, and broken
• welcoming willing converts to sing alongside me
• never demonizing a powerless class - rather encouraging them to harmonize
• teaching others to brace interdependently - as the roots and branches of many trees - against erosion of all kinds.

Thanks for reading my silly tree essay! If things follow my plans, this will serve as part one of a series, with this installment meant to prime readers. Subsequent installments will tackle deep dives into specific concepts, especially as they apply to the world in which we live today. That said, I currently live in an immobile, unheated car on a borrowed patch of land (gratitude to my hosts!), and I am updating this site using a broken laptop (thanks to my donor!) - there's no telling what kind of wrench might land in my plans. Look for Part Two sometime in the middle of next week (Tuesday - Wednesday). I am working on adding engagement to this platform. In the meantime, if you have any thoughts, questions, or just want to discuss the ideas at play here, feel free to DM me wherever you have access to me. Take care, and watch for falling trees!