Keeping the mind limber

Familiarity dulls perception. Or, as Neil Gaiman once put it:

“Change. Change. Change. Change… Change. Change. Chaaange. When you say words a lot they don’t mean anything. Or maybe they don’t mean anything anyway, and we just think they do.” – Delirium, in Sandman #41: Brief Lives

One of the things that I like best about Greco-Egyptian polytheism is that it’s strong emphasis on polyvalence mediates against our natural tendency to view the world in uniform and simplistic ways. A good example of this is the early monumental tombs of Alexandria. Often these tombs contain rich and complex mythological scenes drawn from both Greek and Egyptian religion. What is most striking about them, however, is that such scenes often appear simultaneously on the same sarcophagus. So, for instance, on the upper register we’ll find the supine form of Osiris being roused back to life by Isis and Nephthys, or the soul of the dead man successfully passing judgment in the Halls of Ma’at. And directly beneath that can be found a sequence depicting the abduction of Kore-Persephone in a field of flowers by Haides or Dionysos and Ariadne, reunited after her resurrection in a loving embrace, surrounded by lush vegetation and playful Erotes. Although the outward expression is different, the inner experience is startlingly similar. Hence the deceased’s desire to have both symbol-sets present when he entered eternity. Were you to ask him which of the two he actually believed in, since they clearly contradicted each other and therefore could not both be true in the same way at the same time, he would no doubt have cocked his head and given you a quizzical expression.

These apparent contradictions didn’t bother the ancients the way that they often do us. They didn’t think in the categories either/or but rather both/and. So, for instance, they could describe the goddess Hathor as a falcon and a lion and a cow and a beautiful woman and a mountain range and the overarching heavens and a tree and the rush of intoxication brought on by love, music, dancing, or strong drink. She was all of this and so much more, and to ask which of these she really was is to miss the picture entirely.

To help explain this ancient mode of thought I often draw an analogy to optical illusion puzzles, for instance the famous old woman/young girl sketches or the two faces/chalice picture. Many people can only see one of the images at a time, and once viewed may have difficulty shaking off the vision in order to perceive the other. And yet, the whole time both pictures are there, regardless of whether they can be seen at any given moment.

This is how the world works. Reality is far richer and more complex than we are capable of understanding. We only ever pick up on a tiny fraction of what’s going on around us. And frankly, that’s a good thing because if we were suddenly inundated with the fullness of reality, we would experience sensory stimulation overload and be driven insane. Our brains couldn’t handle it. Therefore we have learned to filter out the background noise and focus on particulars. I’m sure this was of great advantage to our remote hunter-gatherer ancestors and it still has important utility for us today.

However, I think that there is also benefit in pushing back the boundaries of awareness, of making our categories of thought more fluid and open, and just trying to look at things in a different light.

Which brings us round to the quote with which I opened this meditation. When things become too familiar we stop actually seeing them. My partner is very conscious of this fact and frequently moves around her furniture, framed paintings, and assorted objets d’art in order to see them uniquely and gain a renewed appreciation for them. I heartily commend this approach, and think it important to apply the same principle to other areas of our life, particularly the contents of our mental world.

For instance, I’ll take an unfamiliar ancient quote and play a game of free-association with it, trying to see it not through my eyes but those of the person who originally wrote it.

Here is a good example:

“The priests of Aphrodite to Apollonios the dioiketes greeting. In accordance with what the king has written to you, to give one hundred talents of myrrh for the burial of the Hesis, please order this to be given. For you know that the Hesis is not brought up to the nome unless we have in readiness everything required for the burial, because the embalming is done (?) on the day of her death. Know that the Hesis is Isis, and may she give you favor in the eyes of the king. Farewell. Year 28, Hathyr 15.” – PSI 4.328

Who were these priests of Aphrodite? What sort of daily routine did they go through? What was their life like when they weren’t on duty? What sort of relationship did they have with the dioiketes, particularly when he wasn’t around? Did they actually mean the Greek Aphrodite or were they instead servants of Hathor? If the latter, why did they describe themselves as priests of Aphrodite? Merely to ingratiate themselves with the Greek authorities, or because they genuinely felt a connection between the two? There is certainly a lot of commonality between them – but what stood out the most for these priests? Love, beauty, fertility, or something else? How does Isis fit into all of this? Why is the Hesis cow so important here? What did it look like? What did its chambers look like? What powers did people think it had? What did they feed it? Did they adorn it with special jewels and robes? What ritual acts were involved in the burial? How was the Hesis cow’s successor chosen? How did the general populace interpret the Hesis cow as opposed to the priesthood? Were they permitted to view it on regular occasions or just during special festival days? What were those festivals like? Was there music and dancing and processions? If so, what kind of music? What kind of dancing? Where did they process, and why did they do so? What did they get out of it?

And so on and so forth.

Now, while some of these questions can, in fact, be answered with some additional study, a great many of them cannot. However, I still think that it is important to pose questions such as this if we are going to take Greco-Egyptian polytheism and the sources from which it is formed seriously.

A similar mental exercise that I often engage in is to take apart a familiar Greek or Egyptian word. And by take apart I mean examine what it actually means, translated into English, or explore its connections to other words in the language, with the intent of trying to hear it as the ancients might have. This is particularly fun and interesting to do with the names of various places. We see these so often that they come to lose any meaning for us other than as place-names. But those place-names are often very evocative and would have no doubt remained so for the ancients who heard them. There’s actually a great example of this in the recent movie 300. The narrator is describing how the Spartans have gathered at Thermopylae and are making defensive preparations. But instead of Thermopylae he says, “The place which we call the Hot Gates,” which of course is what Thermopylae actually means.

So, for instance, when I read Oxyrhynchus I pause and think “the city of the sharp-nosed fish.” Sounds much more poetic that way, doesn’t it? And further, it begs the question: why did they choose to name their city after this particular species of fish? Because it flourished there and was religiously important? Why? What sort of rites did they carry out in its honor? Was there a taboo against eating it? Etc. Etc.

In the spirit of this mind expansion, I would like to provide a list of Greco-Egyptian location and city-names translated into conventional English, so that you can go through them and reflect on the meaning and any associations and questions that rise up for you. Feel free to share these in the comments if you feel so inclined.

Aigyptos = “The Mansion where the Soul of Ptah Resides”

Aithiopia = “The Place where Men have Burnt Faces”

Akanthon = “The Place of Thorns”

Antaeopolis = “The City of the One who Travels”

Arsinoe = “The place where knowledge is dispensed”

Berenike Troglodytika = “The Place of the Victorious Cave-Dwellers”

Desheret [eg. the desert] = “The Red Land”

Diospolis = “The City of God”

Dodekaschoinos = “The Place of Twelve Ropes’ Length”

Eileithyiaspolis = “The City of the Birth-Goddess”

Eleusis = “The Place of Epiphany”

Heliopolis = “The City of the Sun”

Hierakonpolis = “The City of Hawks”

Ineb-hedj [eg. Memphis] = “The White Wall”

Kemet [eg. Egypt] = “The Black Land”

Koptos = “The Place of Sorrow”

Krokodilopolis = “The City of Crocodiles”

Leontopolis = “The City of Lions”

Lykopolis = “The City of Wolves”

Mekhat Tawy [eg. Memphis] = “The Balance of the Two Lands”

Naukratis = “The Strong Sea”

Ptolemais = “The Place of Those Who are Ready for War”

Wadj Wer [eg. the Mediterranean Sea] = “The Great Green”

Xois = “Swampy”