Thinking about Iris

The bees go to their hives and they work. They have a purpose, a purpose that requires specific tasks for a greater goal. 

Years ago I enrolled in back to back seminars over several terms with a favorite English professor, a tormented man who was seeking clarity. His bees were buzzing intensely those years. The focal point of his seminars was the novelist and philosopher Iris Murdoch.  One of the many messages I took from my time as a Murdoch devotee was to do the work, get your hands dirty cold plunge. Being in the work will quiet the buzzing in your head. We did a lot of teeth gnashing in those seminars, rebuilding ourselves, remaking our narratives, promising ourselves we would learn and live by a humanistic philosophy, realism at its core. I wanted to engage in intellectual and physical pursuits with equal gusto for a life of abundance rather than regret. One of the most memorable novels for me from that time was Under the Net. I loved the novel for its acknowledgement of the impossibility of language to fully reflect the human condition and why it is so necessary to keep trying, to be ok with the process and be at peace with the struggle. Murdoch allowed for complexities and contradictions, a mirror of my life at that time, and still resonating today.

Murdoch made you think and laugh and be in discomfort. Her novels are both disquieting and comforting. I think of her Irish Protestant upbringing and the discomfort she must have felt when she moved to London.  Being out of place and always feeling foreign brings a heightened sense of awareness, you become an astute observer of others and of yourself.

Feel the discomfort, laugh and connect. We are here together living in a time of perplexity. Be reassured that the buzzing will subside and that all those day to day tasks of upkeep and maintenance along with the step by step process of reaching our greatest goals is simply the continuous work of being human.