Website review: Conversations.org: Interviews With ...
noriescuro discovered this in Cognitive Science
•38 reviews since Jan 28, 2008
cognitive-science, spirituality, zen
•conversations.org/story.php
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Reviews of this website
noriescuro discovered 6 months ago- I take my hats off to Laurie - a real winner. His story captured me big time. From the page: "What are the basic needs of man? What did I learn during this time? I lived very contentedly on almost nothing. I required little sleep and little food. I drank water copiously, had abundant sunshine, walked and ran tremendous amounts, meditated, rested much, did not feel the need for sex, though I enjoyed frequent human companionship, or at least proximity."
- Korinthian rated 4 months ago
- Guide how to not get a thumbs up: Vague page and story title. Unenlightening picture. Loads of text to be read to understand what the page is about. Here's your thumbs down.
- scix rated 5 months ago
- Laurie Seagel writes: I decided to try to find out what were man's basic needs. I would live without most things I was accustomed to and see what it would be like. I decided to give up words; I would only say "yes," "yes" to every question, nothing more, a nod of the head would usually suffice. I would give up things; sandals, a thin shirt and a thin pair of pants would be enough. I knew I could adjust to temperatures in San Francisco through bodily relaxation. The fewer clothes the better; I would worry about changing when the need arose. Nothing in my pockets, nothing, no money, no identification, nothing. And no place. I would break the habit of thinking "where" and "where to?" All places would be equal. I would try to learn to be comfortable anywhere. I hid a sleeping bag in the bushes near Coit Tower, the highest point on Telegraph Hill, though I ended up sleeping in it only once. The rest of my belongings I hauled over to the family home in Oakland. Usually, I wore a hat pulled down low. I sat, relaxed my body, and watched, or listened--looked and listened. I sat in Cassandra's, in the Coffee Gallery, the Bagel Shop, The Place--these were the main gathering spots for people I knew. There was also the Cellar Jazz Club, evenings. Still later some nights after the Cellar closed, we sojourned across town to the Black Fillmore district where jazz was played until early morning at Bimbo's Bop City. Or I'd go off by myself, as most of the others went home. When Cassandra's closed, I'd cross the street where a small cafe was good for a short stop. The small hours of the morning, three to five, I'd spend in a variety of regular ways. Lying among the empty bins in the Italian bakery on Grant just above Green, I watched the bakers working, kneading, arranging, shoving the long rows of loaves into the great oven--rhythm, movement, fire and quiet Italian talk. I enjoyed the warmth and the smell, enjoyed watching them work, like a dance it was--and they always welcomed me. I was a spectator whose enjoyment in watching them heightened their own enjoyment in the work. Invariably one of them would thrust a fresh loaf of bread upon me when I rose to leave. Another activity for three to five in the morning was walking through the bustling, bright and raucous produce market located then at easy walking distance from North Beach. My eyes delighted in the colors of the fruits and vegetables, and I felt energy from the surging of the men and their machines, the helter-skelter of it all. Here too, people got used to seeing me among them. I was always silent and happy, smiling from the delight my eyes were beholding. I was joyous watching the beauty of existence. Here in the produce market people called me "wolf-man," I suppose because my hair was long and shaggy, but they always acted toward me with friendliness and offered me fruit, which I ate. When I was especially tired, during these pre-dawn hours and at other times also, I went into rhythmical walking, sometimes for long distances around San Francisco, long rhythmical strides, arms swinging. The action sort of turned me on, got me high, rested me. Every day, before the sun rose, I climbed to the top of Telegraph Hill somewhere alongside of Coit Tower, to sit and meditate. From my spot, all the sounds of the bay down below me in an arc left, right and center rose up directly, undisturbed by any edifice. I sat, relaxed deeply, deeply, and listened, watched. The sounds of the ships, of the city, of the birds were pleasant to me. I enjoyed them every day, day after day, for hours at a time. When I began hearing the coarser hum of human voices--tourists appeared about nine in the morning to look out on the bay--I lay down where I was and slept for a few hours. I liked sleeping in the sun. When I awoke, I usually went to Washington Square Park, or down through Fisherman's Wharf to Aquatic Park. On the grass of Washington Square, or the sand of Aquatic Park, I'd catch some more sleep in the sun, sometimes swim in the bay at Aquatic Park, eat raw fish at the wharf, or I would sit and watch, listen, or be together with friends-- "beatniks" we were beginning to be called after Chronicle columnist Herb Caen put together Kerouac's "beat" with the "nik" from the Russian "Sputnik." Looking and listening were for me ways of quieting my mind, teaching it to not think, breaking habits of thought like: what to do? where to go? But after awhile, looking and listening became something much more: I came to see and to hear the world, existence, more and more acutely. The more I watched and listened, the more I saw and heard, more keenly, more distinctly. Every day I gained more and more pleasure from this listening and looking, always seeing and hearing more clearly. As time went on, I appreciated how glorious and beautiful existence is, living. I saw how busy, preoccupied were most people with doing, making. Existence was already so m
- Innomen rated 5 months ago
- A fascinating story that for me signifies what our emotional life can be like once we are free from physical needs by technology. His life cannot be duplicated because of the scarcity of the resources on which he lives, such as clean water, good weather, and the ever elusive human generosity, which I'm sure now is in absurdly short supply.
The things which bind us to society are the things we need to survive. In time we will have the tools needed to free ourselves, and our external lives will begin to mimic the richness and variety of our internal ones.
Thanks Laurie. - A fascinating story that for me signifies what our emotional life can be like once we are free from physical needs by technology. His life cannot be duplicated because of the scarcity of the resources on which he lives, such as clean water, good weather, and the ever elusive human generosity, which I'm sure now is in absurdly short supply.
- meatbot rated 5 months ago
- Quite a curious fellow with a courage beyond my own. A beautiful story for anyone who questions their faith, their needs, or their way.
- josh-shmeee rated 5 months ago
- Laurie is just a man who followed his desires. This beauty and this potential lie within all of us. This life is yours to live.
- Matymandog rated 5 months ago
- "A Man Impossible to Classify"
- DadamDugan rated 5 months ago
- Laurie Seagel writes: "I decided to try to find out what were man's basic needs. I would live without most things I was accustomed to and see what it would be like. I decided to give up words; I would only say "yes," "yes" to every question, nothing more, a nod of the head would usually suffice. I would give up things; sandals, a thin shirt and a thin pair of pants would be enough. I knew I could adjust to temperatures in San Francisco through bodily relaxation. The fewer clothes the better; I would worry about changing when the need arose. Nothing in my pockets, nothing, no money, no identification, nothing. And no place. I would break the habit of thinking "where?"and "where to?" All places would be equal. I would try to learn to be comfortable anywhere."
- greenpower rated 5 months ago
- most people will never know themselves, they only know the "image" they want people to believe in.
- DarklingLuna rated 5 months ago
- Proof that "Spirit" can live anywhere. What a beautiful read.
