Famous art + references in movies (insp.)

I don't actually think phoenix thought miles edgeworth was dead post aa1

- gumshoe must have been way too suspicious (and not crying enough)

- no funeral, nothing, no details, way too secretive

- he literally says that miles was dead "to him" and that he "never wanted to see him again"

- this just makes a lot more sense for his arc i am begging you, aa2 is NOT about phoenix being a poor little guy who is unrightfully betrayed by his friend, aa2 is about phoenix coming to terms with the reality of things and that not everything is always black and white

He WANTED to it to be black and white. He thought miles left me, he's dead to me. But it's NOT. He's in DENIAL, that's the point, that's the whole point. Miles managed to get by on his own. He managed to be okay. Without phoenix

Phoenix had his major i can save him attitude in aa1 and he NEEDED this reality check. He was kind of obsessed with edgeworth (wether romantically or not is entirely irrelevant) and he Literally said he's the only one who can save him. And while he was actually RIGHT, that wasn't the point. The point was that it's not that simple and while he changed miles' life, miles was able to continue living it on his own and phoenix needed to realize that

Yeah the way miles left fucking sucked, but i think they kinda needed that. Phoenix depends a lot on other people, he literally falls into a depression after maya leaves post aa1. Plus, his miles thing was sort of.... Done? Or at least on halt. This was the Reason he became a lawyer and now there was neither a goal (miles) nor someone to walk the path with (maya). This kind of dependancy is Not good. So miles leaving, while it was extremely harsh, way absolutely necessary

And i think erasing the psyche behind this in favor of a dramatic fake death is... Kinda sad

Phoenix was so MAD at miles, That was the point. He was heartbroken because he was left, because he felt betrayed and not because he lost someone. This is a big difference and you can see this SO CLEARLY in the game

Sure, phoenix has a right to be mad at miles, to an extend. But this wasn't about him having a right to be mad, this was about phoenix feeling entitled to miles' personal life and personal development. If you say he thought he was dead, then you erase the whole aspect of Phoenix letting himself be lead too much by his emotions and not thinking rationally enough. WHICH IS THE WHOLE POINT OF HIS ARC IN AA2.

Sure. Grief is also a theme in this game. And i'm not saying phoenix ISN'T grieving miles. And i know that it also parallels the cases in the way of grieving people being consumed by anger. But it's different with phoenix because he's mad AT edgeworth. So it only makes sense for this to be combined with the theme of phoenix Being Wrong because he's Extremely Emotional

If he ends up just being mad bc he fakes his death, what's wrong about that? Of course he's also entitled to being mad at miles for leaving like this, but like i said - it's not black and white (like it would be in a fake death scenario). Miles had his reasons for what he did, he wanted distance and even though the way he left wasn't nice, the idea was truly his right (not saying that miles is not to blame here. I'm just saying they do the weirdest shit but it just always Works)

It also parallels franziska feeling left behind by miles, but that's a different story

Basically yesh i think it's implied that he didn't really think miles was dead and also it would make so much more sense for their relationship and devlopment as phoenix learning to see things with more nuance is literally an essential part of the second game and his entire character arc

This trend is so old but <3

Yesh, I couldn't find an audio that I liked so....

Anyways here is a little more stuff I just want to add to my fic:

Obviously all of them interacting but especially Will being a little shit alongside Lucky

Podcast and Phoebe's friendship being expanded upon a little more (even if only through brief flashes)

Will being just happy, like actually enjoying himself without too much worry (obviously there is still some because dimensional travel and what not)

Will catching up on the comic industry and subsequently having a crisis over it

Trevor and Lucky groaning or cringing at certain things Will does or says because "I forgot you're literally from the 80s"

Callie just being confused on Will's existence because they don't really explain anything until way on

Will and Trevor just talking about dumb teenage boy shit

Will having a full on crisis once he catches feelings because of the whole "do I like you for you or because you look like him"

Trevor buttheading Will during a romantic/tension filled moment

Lucky explaining the conspiracies and thoughts that her and her friends, as well as the town, have about the place

Will subconsciously comparing/making parallels between Lucky and his brother/the older teens in the group and feeling homesick (No idea how old Lucky is supposed to be and nothing really shows when I look it up, but based on different context clues, and considering the actors age at the time, I'm going with Lucky being around their ages)

Back in Kathmandu, I searched monasteries and private collections for Tibetan texts describing Pemako and other beyul. I also applied repeatedly to the Chinese authorities for permission to visit the Tsangpo gorges, but the same answer came back every time: it was a military zone and completely off limits.

For the time being, I contented myself with tracking down and studying block-printed manuscripts based on Padmasambhava’s prophecies of the hidden-lands. Padmasambhava’s consort, Yeshe Tsogyal—Lake of Gnosis—had written down these accounts on amber parchment and concealed them in temple pillars, lakes, and walls of rock.

Throughout the centuries, lamas and yogis were led to these yellow scrolls (sghog-ser) in dreams and visions. Those who discovered them were called terton, or treasure-revealers, and what were often no more than fragmentary texts written on yellow parchment were called terma, or more simply ter— concealed treasures that also included ritual objects that inspired the quest for enlightenment. Like the papyrus scrolls of the Christian gnostics, the original manuscripts were often found in earthen jars hidden in caves and cliffs. Unique hazards are said to attend their discovery; a story is told, for example, of a terton who pulled a yellow scroll from an urn found in the opening of a cliff, only to have the rock close on his hand and chop off one of his fingers when he reached back in for more.

Some of the original revealed texts were reputedly written with invisible ink that appeared only when the paper was slowly heated over a flame. Others were coded in a runic alphabet called khandro dayig, or secret script of dakinis, which the terton could decipher and interpret only after months of meditation, often embellishing them with his own insights. The decoded yellow scrolls—full of ambiguous terms and cryptic allusions and almost entirely devoid of case particles—were later transcribed onto insect-resistant paper made by boiling and pressing the inner bark of a Himalayan shrub called yubok (Daphne papyyracea).

The scrolls elucidated subtle teachings on the nature of mind and phenomena. Those that described routes to the hidden-lands were known as neyig, or guides to sacred places. Most of the neyigs I examined had been reprinted during the last century in loose folios stacked between wooden covers and wrapped in yellow and red silk. They typically opened with apocalyptic prophecies of war and devastation, but shifted into what read at times like a Fodor’s Guide to a parallel universe, with outer, inner, and secret descriptions of isolated regions of the Himalayas. Like a Tibetan Pilgrims’ Progress, the texts refer to the journey’s inevitable hazards as inner obstacles that, once surmounted, lead to greater merit and spiritual realization until, ultimately—in the innermost heart of the hidden-land—“the eyes can see and the ears can hear that which elsewhere is obscured.” Whatever the reality or coded metaphors behind such claims, the neyigs had reshaped Tibetans’ relationship to the natural world and revealed it as a place of continual revelation.

-- Ian Baker, The Heart of the World

Sam pulling Jack up like they pulled Cas up

Midori, Masaru just woke up. Though he’d probably need some space to breath.

He’s awake?

...

I’m on my way.

________________________________________

Hello, Mr. Daimon. How are you feeling?

O-okay...who’re yu...?

My name is Inori Kanata. I’m a junior surgeon here.

Wha’s duh day...?

July 25th. You’ve been unconscious for the last two weeks.

And I need to ask you some questions, alright?

‘Kay...

What’s 2+2?

Four.

Kanata: Is more than half of this circle shaded?

Yesh...

Kanata: Are these lines parallel?

Yesh...

Alright, so spatial awareness seems to be intact. We’ll do some more tests later.

*Wearing a mask and carrying her IV with her* He’s up!

Ms. Yamaguchi?!

Sorry, sorry, I...I wanted to see him.

Who’re yu...?

I’m Yamaguchi Midori. It’s nice to meet you.

Er yu okray...?

I could ask you the same thing.

The American Dollar — Awake In The City. 2012 ; Yesh Music.    ~ [ Album Review |   1) Headphone Commute  +  2) Muzik Dizcovery  +   3) Postrocker ]

1) Although I haven’t really covered The American Dollar on Headphone Commute in the past (I don’t think), I have been indeed listening to this NYC based duo since their debut in 2006. Back then, Richard Cupolo and John Emanuele self-released a self-titled debut which blended elements of ambient, shoegaze and post-rock into one sonic cocoon, in which I used to hide during the cold winter months. A year later, the group self-released The Technicolour Sleep, and on the following got signed to Yesh Music with the release of A Memory Stream. In 2009 I still kept up with The American Dollar’s release of Atlas. And since I’ve been meaning to write about The American Dollar, I might as well start with their very latest, Awake In The City. Cupolo and Emanuele compose acoustic textures with slight hints of electronic percussion, soaring guitars, and cinematic keys, the likes of which will appeal to fans of Lights Out Asia, Hammock, God Is An Astronaut, Epic45, Explosions In The Sky, The Album Leaf and Port-Royal. The major harmonics on the album leave you with a sense of well-being, ready to kick start a brand new project, or throw yourself into another busy day. This is a wonderful opening to my morning commute across the concrete jungle as pavement is brimming with sunlight and fumes. And although Awake In The City does not break any grounds in terms of evolution of sound, it does nevertheless feel like ‘home’ – and that’s a well desired attribute in music – that’s the one that makes me want to reach out for another spin again and again. File somewhere before emotional electronica and after the post-rock.

2) The American Dollar is two guys in New York City, creating music amidst the rush and sounds of living in a busy place. Coupled with their own musical influences, it seems that a lot of their inspiration is the city itself. Most of their album art is relevant to living in a metropolis that burns bright, and the music on this particular album really reflects that. Awake In The City is a beautiful compilation of songs that help to reveal a new side of New York, and a strain in music that is rarely seen - music with real beauty. John Emanuele and Richard Cupolo harness their surroundings, their own musical prowess, and the tools they have available to them in order to create a truly beautiful record, packed with emotion. In a city known for business, power, and people, Emanuele and Cupolo show the listener a city with heart, emotion, and life.

The music on Awake In The City differs from releases like Atlas in the sense that it all seems very refined. Maybe not necessarily controlled, or uncontrolled, at that instance, but with polish, and finesse. That may be from a musical advancement over the years, but I think it also represents the structure and flow of the city. Maybe not everything is refined and orderly, but I think it's a pretty cool parallel to draw, and it's a very neat comparison when you look at the album art and imagine what Emanuele and Cupolo are thinking when the music is playing. While on the idea of musical advancement, though, I do think there is a certain finish that the new release presents that some of the others lack. I can't really put my finger on it - maybe something between the raw, instrumental sound versus the airy, well-tweaked post-rock quality, or perhaps something about the orchestration of the songs and the album, but the songs sound fuller, more rich, and more lively. It's really worth the time for a listen to compare releases such as A Memory Stream to the current release in order to try and check this hypothesis.

On the music of Awake In The City, I think it's absolutely brilliant. The American Dollar covers pretty much all the bases on the album, and it has a little bit of electronic flair (well, I guess you could say more than a little bit with all of the synths, but it kind of falls second to noticing what's created by the music) that makes everything just wonderful. With a dash of trip-hop on "Strings" or "Urbana" contrasting wonderfully to the instrumental masterpiece "Heavy Eyes Ignite", sounding something like a slow Mogwai anthem, it's just a vivid coupling of music. Then, when you set it along side an open, echoic piece like "Oracle", you realize just how subtle some of these touches are, and The American Dollar begins to fade as an image of a band, and instead starts to come forth as a reflecting pool. You stand at the edge, peering forth, expecting to see merely your reflection. What comes out is both more dynamic and profound than the surface level, because what comes out is a realistic countenance of who we really are - human.

Awake In The City means a lot musically. It's not just a musical reflection of New York, or a general metropolis, or of people, but a musical representation of everything. From society to humanity's effects on transforming a natural bounty into a bustling cultural center, from active night life to the early hours of the day where you find out who a person really is, and from a passing from the naivety of existence in childhood into the understanding of the world in adulthood. This album is growth, life, success, activity, but also passivity, failure, death, and most importantly, acceptance. No matter who you are, you will find some emotional tie in this album, I can guarantee it. This album is undoubtedly special, and it has a powerful effect that renders me both vocal and speechless. Exactly what it means to you is up to how you perceive this album, and the world around you, dear listener.

3) After almost a two years wait, The American Dollar launches their new EP titled "Awake in the City". Ambient / Postrock bliss? Read the verdict here! I have to admit that I was longing for a new The American Dollar album for a while now. One year ago I discovered this great band and since then I'm addicted to their music. A couple of months ago, I featured the song Glow in the Must-Hear Postrock category and posted a couple of Timelapse videos with the American Dollar Band soundtracks. I even used one of their songs for my own private photoccollage. That's just the thing about this band, their music really suits the atmosphere of cities and landscapes.

Awake in the City is their latest full-fledged album and there is hope that this album continues to amaze listeners to dreamlike tunes featuring the characteristic electro / synth samples we're used to. Opener Faces in the Haze really delivers and is a safe haven for the fans. The piano sounds, little electro touches and spanish guitars feel very comfortable and really pleases my ears. Halfway through the song, there's a small WTF-moment that's surprising but doesn't detract from the overall stellar quality of the song. It's a great opener for things to come.

The Album's second track is called Heavy Eyes Ignite and has a slower approach than opener Faces in the Haze. The American Dollar's ambient influences are coming through and at 2 minutes in the song, the loudness kicks up a notch and delivers another quality song that would really work in timelapse video's to come. This song really makes you "feel".

Ether Channels continues this state of mind. A funny thing about this song is that the background-synthesizer is constantly pitching at a higher tune when the song progresses. It ends in a calm and almost serene way with the piano playing an easy rythm. First Day has an air of optimism in it. 2/3rd into the song, this track kicks up one step with a great tune that feels a bit too short.

Right in the middle of the tracklist, there's Steeltown part one and part two. Both songs could be combined into one song because the end of part one flows naturally in the beginning of part two. I really like the easy-listening chanting vocals in this song and I'm interesetd in how the results would be if The American Dollar incoporates this in more songs. Steeltown part one as an inidividual song doesn't feel complete, but the transistion into part two works and the latter is a great upbeat tune.

Track number eight Strings isn't bad, but in my opinion it's a bit lifeless. It just doesn't hold my attention or gives me the same feeling as some other tracks. Luckily, Crossing Asia's opening catches my immediate attention due to the distinctive beats and the Asian sounds you'll hear. When the Asian sounds combine with the electric guitar, I can imagine me walking in Tokyo again and amaze at the neon and skyscrapers. Someone make a Tokyo Timelapse with this song, thank you kindly!

As we float is a track that sounds a bit too generic. It gets lost in the other songs that sound the same but have a better tune / rythm. The beginning of Urbana almost sounds like a dance track and has a techy feel. High pitch sound effects and a very different beat than most songs. Friends of friends beginning has a lot of similarities with the Ambient one and Ambient two releases, but really opens up to a full sound with mysterious tunes in it which I like a lot. The final track titled Oracle is a worthy finisher that recalls all good tunes that make the music of The American Dollar worth your time and money.

In conclusion Awake in the City isn't an album that renews The American Dollar. It's not an album with risky decisions or whatsoever, but I don't mind. The songs on this album create a city-sound that inspires me to travel. Every day I travel by train to get to work and this music really fits. The American Dollar succeeds in creating another album that, while travelling, makes you think about all the possibilities we have to see and visit places. It's the ultimate city-sound which you can really enjoy when you see the fading lights while travelling by train or when you're walking outside under the moon and stars. It's also a great album to listen to when you're reading a good book or relax after a day of hard work. The American Dollar continues to create emotionally moving tracks that avoids negative thoughts. It's really soothing, creative, positive music that a lot of listeners will enjoy. Awake in the City is highly recommended!

it’s your birthday?? happy birthday maira you reblog the best words & parallels posts that make me yearn and your edits are wonderful 💛

depending on ur timezone yesh!!! thank u so much !!! 🥺🥺🥺

The small stone and the involved nut - The theme of isolation and connection within Haibane Renmei

Actually sitting down and writing an analysis? For an anime that was released almost 20 years ago and that like almost nobody knows? Me? Apparently, yesh!

After I rewatched Haibane Renmei months ago I couldn’t get it out of my mind all this time and writing about it has burned under my nails ever since, so yes. This analysis will examine the themes of “isolation” and “connection”. At first there will be an examination of the setting and the way the world is built in Haibane Renmei and how it presents “isolation” and “connection”. After that there will be a closer look to the characters. The second chapter will analyses how the characters isolate themselves and how isolation is presented. The last chapter will focus on connection, the breaking up of said isolation and will further discuss how the theme of “connection” ties to other main themes, which are “guilt” and “forgiveness”.        

Charcoal Feather Federation and the end of the world

 I’m sorry for putting a reference from the title of the book “Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World” in the title of the chapter, which talks about the setting of Haibane Renmei. But it is stated from the creator ABe that he drew inspiration from Haruki Murakami’s (imo fantastic) book “Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World” and the similarities in the setting are striking. But this is not about the relationship between Haibane Renmei and the book, but Haibane Renmei alone and how it integrates the theme of isolation and connection in its setting. The setting of Haibane Renmei is a setting of isolation. The town of Glie and its surroundings are sheltered from the outside world by massive walls. It serves as a closed microcosm, the inhabitants of Glie – as shown with Sumika – may wonder what’s behind them, but never make actual attempts to overcome it. Coming neat towards the wall or even touch it leads to serve injury and sickness, which happens to Hyoko in the past and to Rakka in the present of the narrative. This way the isolation stays untouched. There are three entities, which are able to cross the walls: The crows, the Touga and Haibane that receive their Day of Flight. Their life as Haibane ends as they overcome the walls, the closed, isolated space which is Glie. Curiously their life as a Haibane starts in a similar way, namely sheltered in a cocoon. The cocoon isolates the Haibane from the world outside, serving as a sort of wall in itself. The first episode shows this very well with paralleling shots of Rakka in her cocoon and the other Haibane in front of the cocoon, who are discussing what to do. As soon Rakka hatches, she is no longer isolated, starts to connect with others, becomes an active part of the world around her. The progress of a Haibane hatching from the cocoon parallels in them crossing the wall during their day of flight. In both instances an isolated space is left behind, in other words: The Haibane are breaking free from the isolation. The cocoon could be seen as an Day of Flight on a smaller scale, preparing the Haibane for their mental journey that leads to cross the walls someday.

 But the isolation is not only empathized in the world around the Haibane, but becomes especially clear in the social coexistence between Haibane and humans. Haibane are subject to the strict ruleset by the Haibane Renmei. They are separated from humans as they live in long-abandoned buildings like the Old Factory or Old Home away from town. On top of the physical separation and the appearance (halo and wings) that separates Haibane from humans, there is the social ruleset that furthers the Haibane’s isolataion. They are only allowed to possess goods that they have made themselves or that the townspeople have cast aside, like donations and discarded items. They have to find an occupation. On the other hand, money is something Haibane are not allowed to have as well; instead they carry notebooks used as scripts. These are instruments of oppression, creating a power imbalance, separating the Haibane further from the humans. Furthermore Haibane are seen as someone who brings luck, which makes them to be seen more as a “lucky charm” than a person by some. This is especially apparent with the woman who is harassing Rakka, who was already struggling with being sin-bound, by highlighting her strangeness as well as calling her Haibane, a term and a position, like I said Rakka was struggling with at that point.    

 The theme of isolation and separation is also explored with the entities, who are directly involved with the Haibane: The Haibane Renmei and their Communicator and the mysterious Touga, who are able to leave the walls behind and serve as merchants. The Touga are generally not allowed to speak directly and communicate with sign language only the Communicator knowns – furthering the Touga’s isolation within the community and the “otherness” of their status. A similar phenomenon can be observed between the Haibane and the Communicator. The Haibane are not allowed to speak to the Communicator directly (showing the power imbalance) and use their wings for sign language. “Silence” and “not speaking” are prominent elements to show and strengthen the theme of isolation. This is not only appearing in an outward ruleset but also within the characters (Rakka and Reki), but we will get to that later.

 There are two other separated groups within the setting: The sin-bound Haibane and the crows, which curiously both have black feathers. It may be strange to examine those two together just because of this, but there is a reason, as both are separated by their unique statuses in the setting. Sin-bound Haibane are Haibane who can not fully remember their dream, which separate them from other Haibane. As seen in Reki’s past, they are shunned and avoided because of their otherness among other Haibane. Furthermore the ultimate fate of a sin-bound Haibane is “to fall”, to lose their wings and Halo, living a life separated from humans and Haibane alike. Speak: Ultimate isolation.          

The crows are isolated because of their unique status of crossing the walls. Especially Kana shows disdain towards crows, scaring them away (similar to everyone except of Kuramori was discriminating and avoiding Reki because of her black wings). Rakka (and as well Kuu, who foils Rakka in being the youngest Haibane, their dream/name is about falling, both are struggling to finding themselves and a purpose in life, as well as Kuu being the first one to receive her Day of Flight while Rakka’s ability to receive the Day of Flight is questionable for a long time due to being sin-bound) on the other hand is much more empathic with the crows (which becomes an extremely important plot point later on), even suggesting to give them food. In her response Kana shows a lot more insight and motifs that go beyond that crows are “dirty” animals and envy that they are able to cross the wall: If they get too comfortable they might not want to leave and lose their freedom, which shows Kana’s wish for her own freedom but also a empathy for the crows that only Rakka seemed to show.

While crows can cross the wall by nature, the formerly sin-bound and fallen Haibane have lost the possibility to do so at all – Haibane on the other hand all have the potential to cross the wall on their Day of Flight.

While all the restrictions that are put on the Haibane makes the town of Glie appear like a bleak world, the opposite is actually the case. Glie presents itself as a peaceful, even idealistic place. One does wonder why there are restrictions in the first place – but Kana’s dialog with Rakka about the crows offers a interpretation: If the Haibane would get too comfortable within the town of Glie they would have an harder time to leave it, receive their Day of Flight and to move on with their existence. The life in Glie is a peaceful, worriless one. Every human is kindhearted (even the woman at the shop who tried to touch Rakka’s wings has no ill intention), conflicts don’t arouse. Even though some of them are curious about what is behind the wall (such as Sumika used to search for book) the human inhabitants and Haibane alike mostly don’t seem to mind the fact that they are not able to cross it and focus on their lives within the walls. The shop-owner is generous and friendly, Sumika the librarian is kindhearted, the man who works in the clock tower may seem grumpy but he appreciates Kana a lot.

The first episodes focus on Rakka being following Hikari, Kana and Nemo to their workplaces. Not only she connects with her fellow-Haibane this way, learning about their daily life and personality, but she also forms connection to humans this way. Human and Haibane are even able to connect through their differences – this is what the pregnant Sumika did when she asked Rakka what it is like to be born (empathizing the theme of birth). Most Haibane have initially connection to humans through their workplace, they even form deeper connections like friendship as it is shown with Nemu and Sumika. The town of Glie is a idealistic, kindhearted world – even impactful events like Kuu’s disappearing are, though they are mourned after, accepted relatively quickly and everyone goes back to their mundane everyday life pretty fast. But from this arises the problem what happens to them who don’t conform to such a idealistic world, for those who struggle and feel pain in an intense, long-term way? Who don’t seem to fit in a world where open, negative emotions don’t seem to have a place in? This is what happens with Rakka and Reki respectively.

If conflict arises it appears mostly within the realm of the Haibane. And if there is conflict in the realm of the Haibane, it revolves around those who are struggling with negative emotions and can’t find a place in such a idealistic world und struggle with those feelings: Rakka and Reki. Either in the form of inner conflict (wondering what is their purpose of their existence, struggling with their status of being a Haibane) or outer conflict (Nemu’s negative emotions arise from the worry for Reki; Rakka feeling out of place since she can not cope with Kuu’s disappearance but everyone else can; Reki’s past as a sin-bound Haibane, her feeling betrayed by Kuramori, her plan to escape, hurting Hyouko and Midori in the process). How Reki’s and Rakka’s struggles steam and are fueled by isolation shall be observed in the following.

   Birds of a feather – Rakka, Reki and the burden of isolation

 Isolation is one of the main themes surrounding both Rakka and Reki and during the narration they heavily foil each other via paralleling and contrasting.

 Reki’s start as a life as a Haibane is defined by loneliness, pain and isolation – her cocoon emerged in a boarded up room and when she was found she already hatched. She had to bear the confusion of her new life, the erupting of her wings and the accomplished pain and fever all by herself. She was found unconscious and covered in blood, her wings being black instead of the charcoal color. Kuramori took care of her, cleaned her wings and nursed her back to health.

Rakka’s start highly parallels and contrasts Reki’s arrival. Rakka’s cocoon is found by Reki by chance in an abandoned section of the building complex. But contrasting her own fate, Reki finds before Rakka hatches. And right after she emerged, Reki takes care of her. Reki explains the situation to her, warns her about her condition, nurses her in a devotedly (she uses her own thumb so Rakka doesn’t bite her tongue while being in pain, foreshadowing her self-scarifying personality) and stays at Rakka’s bedside the whole night, watching over her and cleaning her wings. Reki gives Rakka what she couldn’t have at the start of her life: Company, care and compassion – the feeling of belonging, a connection to others. Rakka’s start in the life of a Haibane highly contrasts Reki’s because of the influence of Reki herself, who gives Rakka a different fate than her own by taking care of her.

The contrasting doesn’t stop there: Reki compliments Rakka’s charcoal wings, a callback to her own darkly stained feathers. While Reki started out as being sin-bound from right the beginning, Rakka adapts the status of being sin-bound only later on due to Kuu’s departure. What are Reki’s starting conditions is a development for Rakka. The black wings and the stigma of being sin-bound are the reason why Reki was discriminated by the other Haibane with only her mentor Kuramori giving care of her. In the present, Reki adapts Kuramori’s role as a caregiver towards Rakka. But in contrast to Reki, Rakka is able to bound to the other Haibane right from the beginning. She is bid welcome, everyone introduces themselves in a friendly manner and over the course of the first episodes, Rakka is able to connect with them individually with each episode being decided to a certain Haibane (Episode 3 is focused on Hikari and Kuu, Episode 4 focuses on Rakka’s and Kana’s relationship and Kana showing Rakka her project and Episode 4 Rakka helps out in Nemu’s workplace). All this activities are centered around giving and receiving help. Rakka is introduced to the world of the Haibane, receiving help to orientate herself in her new life, while Rakka on the other end gives help as well, e.g. helping in the library. The other Haibane willingly connect with Rakka, letting her into their personal lives.

As said before, Reki’s first time at Old Home was very different, spending her time as an outsider. Her first experience besides Kuramori introducing herself was Nemu, who refused to talk to her and ran away from her. A situation that would draw through all of Reki’s early experiences in Old Home. While Nemu is surrounded by the other Haibane children, Reki, a child herself at point, it standing isolated on the side, hiding herself. This highly contrasts the warm welcome Rakka receives. Furthermore her caregiver Kuramori falls ill several times due to her weak condition and the exhaustion of collecting medicines to bleach Reki’s wings. Something, Reki not only blames herself for but is blamed for it by an outside force, namely Nemu, who loves Kuramori as well and shoves the blame for her sickness towards Reki. In the end, she openly says to Reki, it will be her fault, if Kuramori died, which makes Reki cry out of fear and self-blame (the long shot on Nemu’s face instead of showing Reki crying suggest that Nemu is sorry). While Nemu watches over Kuramori, Reki is isolated again, even from giving help...until the point she shows up with food she bought for Nemu, thinking she was hungry. Nemu not only accepts the food, but apologies for what she said before. After that she suggests that they could cook together. A connective activity, showing Reki that she is accepted, wanted by someone else but Kuramori. Both are connected by the caring for Kuramori, but Reki bringing food, Nemu understands that Reki not only cares for Kuramori (by coming back instead of staying away) but for her as well, despite of what she has done (by bringing her food). Reki’s action of reaching out to Nemu leads to Nemu reaching out for Reki on her behalf. Nemu even integrates Reki in her activities, allowing Reki to be there and help, doing stuff with her instead of being isolated. In the next morning, when Kuramori wakes up, she sees the two Haibane sleeping on her bedside (paralleling how Reki stays at Rakka’s bedside several times, highlighting her caring nature), holding hands, which symbolizes the connection and the friendship the two girls have made. They are not only connected by caring about Kuramori, but also caring about themselves. Reki’s connection to others even expands further from this point, as she receives the job as the caregiver for the younger Haibane from Kuramori, which – after a moment of doubt if she is really fit for it (same as Rakka is always struggling with what she wants to do) – she accepts happily. She, who only was on the sidelines, is now not only in the center of other people and strongly connected to them, but has also a position of responsibility, showing the trust Kuramori has in her.

 Rakka and Reki are slowly finding their places in the world, but both are taken aback by a loss in this stage of their development. In both cases Rakka and Reki are losing their mentor and family figures Kuu and Kuramori through their Day of Flight. Kuu and Kuramori disappear suddenly and the grief Rakka and Reki feel, pushes them into isolation. Reki feels betrayed by Kuramori disappearance, who promised to never leave her, fueling her existing trust issues and self-hatred. She can’t believe or accept Kuramori is gone, paralleling to how Rakka refuses to believe that Kuu won’t come back. Reki’s grief turns against herself in form of self-hatred and anger against Kuramori who seemingly abandoned her, Rakka’s depression partly stems from the fear for another person, namely that Kuu, who was so important to hear, will be forgotten. But this is only one aspect of Rakka’s depression. She is also unable to get back into normal routine after Kuu is gone, holding onto her grief. Seeing how all the other Haibane are going on with their everyday life every fast cuts Rakka’s emotional life off from the rest of her peers. She is unable to fit in and isolates herself. Her black feathers only emphasis her isolation from the world around her. Because of what happened to Kuu she begins to question the existence of the Haibane in the first place, asking questions humans and Haibane ask alike. “Why am I here?” “Where do I go?” “What is the point of my existence?” “What’s the point of my existence if I will disappear? If no one will remember me anyway?” Not only is Rakka unable to find an answer, but she also questions the legitimacy of her very own existence as a Haibane since the black feathers mark her as sin-bound, a “flawed Haibane”, in her and Reki’s eyes. Not only Rakka’s view of the relationship of the Haibane and the world around them (which is obviously a world were Haibane disappear someday) is torn apart and thrown into insecurity – but her own relationship with being a Haibane is just as well torn apart and thrown into insecurity. It is implied that Rakka always had those feelings of inadequacy (as she questioned why her, a normal girl, would become a Haibane) and was prone to questioning her own existence (how she wondered serval times over the nature of the Haibane even in the first episodes). Reki on the other hand always seemed to have the same feelings of inadequacy and loneliness accompanied by the fear of abandonment. In both cases, the disappearance of another Haibane (who was a mentor figure just as much as a part of the family), fuel and worsen Rakka’s and Reki’s existing issues.

In both cases it causes them to run away – in Reki’s case she found shelter in the Old Factory, where other Haibane most importantly her friends Midori and Hyouko live. So it was not a complete isolation, but she did cut ties with her actual home. Also the isolation furthers as Hyouko and Reki tried to flee together as it not only cuts ties with Midori, but Reki and Hyouko are planning to leave this world (the town of Glie) entirely. The attempt to run away is not only fueled by Reki’s perception as the town of Glie as a prison (as it not only her status as a sin-bound Haibane is a prison for her, but also her distance to Kuramori and the rest of the outside world), but also an attempt to reunite with Kuramori – which is an evidence that Reki forgave Kuramori the “betrayal”, even though she never overcame the feelings that “betrayal” left in her. The plan to run away horrible fails as Hyouko is badly hurt through touching the wall, almost bleeding to death – leaving Reki with an immense sense of guilt. Not only their plan is foiled, the ties between Reki and Midori are even more cut, as Midori blames her for Hyouko’s near-death. Furthermore, the Haibane from Old Home and the Old Factory are not allowed to interact with each other as an aftermath of their stunt, leaving Reki and Hyouko isolated from each other.

In comparison to Reki, Rakka is a lot more aimless. She is convinced that she can’t go back to Old Home anymore because she is not a “proper Haibane”, but she doesn’t have a concrete plan and – different to Reki – no other Haibane to support her in the situation (expect Reki, but Rakka has the feeling that she can’t entrust her worries to her and that nobody cares about her anyway. Here we have the theme of “not talking/staying silent” and how it causes issues.). The one guidance she has are the crows, which she emphasizes/connected with right from the beginning of her life as a Haibane (unknowing that she has a much deeper connection to crows due to her dream, which she can’t remember). She is able to emphasize enough with the crows to follow them in the forest, where she finds the skeleton of the bird in a dried up well (dried up as a symbol of death or how Rakka’s happiness has dried up). The theme of isolation and connection is heavily empathized with everything surrounding the well. First of all, it is a symbol for Rakka’s mental state: In a deep hole, unable to crawl out, the ladder is broken, her ankle is hurt (making her even more trapped); the well is in an isolated place so nobody could hear her, nobody knows where she is. In other words: Rakka is feeling depressed and hopeless, she doesn’t know how to feel better (in comparison to Reki, who thought she would feel better if she climbed the wall), any opportunity to feel better doesn’t work, her body is working against her (like the black wings), she feels isolated, nobody knows how she feels or that she needs help. The skeleton of the bird could foreshadow her possible fate (read: death) in the well, which is only emphasized by the falling snow, as snow is traditionally a symbol for death.

In this moment of isolation, Rakka is able to reconnect to the past: She remembers a time, where she felt exactly the same – lonely, isolating thinking, nobody was there for her or would grieve if she was gone. She is also able to recognize the skeleton of the bird as someone she knew, someone who was dear to her. The present reflects her past situation and through meeting the skeleton Rakka is able to remember her dream, having a moment of self-recognition: She remembers that the crow was indeed there for her and cared for her – even though she is unable to remember the context or who the bird originally was. What Rakka remembers is, that she felt lonely in her past life, wanting to disappear, thinking that nobody would care. But the person, represented by the bird, wanted to show Rakka that she was not alone, wanted to save her. That relates to Rakka’s dream how the bird is trying to stop Rakka’s fall – without success. Rakka feels guilty about letting the person, represented by the bird, down, for being unable to recognize their care, for leaving and leaving the bird alone. As a last act, Rakka buries the skeleton, an act of connection and respect, giving piece to the bird. And giving piece to herself. Soon after, Rakka is found by the Touga. Despite the gaps and restrictions between the Touga and Haibane, they both assist Rakka and help her out of the well, most likely saving her life. They never speak to her and are probably not allowed to interact with her, but they still emphasize with and reaching out to her.

It is no coincidence that Rakka and Reki both happen to be in the forest as a part of their personal journey. The forest is an isolated place, not meant to be intruded. Here, Rakka and Reki are confronted with themselves (as isolation means continuous self-confrontion with no one else) and with the consequences of their actions. Reki is confronted with her own recklessness wanting to cross the wall, while Rakka is confronted with the actions of her past and her inability to accept others attempts to reach out to her. In a similar line, both confrontations surround the theme of death and grief, as Hyouko almost died and the withered corpse of the bird – Reki and Rakka both being stricken with guilt. But for both, Hyouko and the bird, there is some sort of relieve. Hyouko survives while the bird is buried, giving it salvation and a reconciliation with Rakka. As Rakka touches the wall, as Hyouko did und falls seriously ill afterwards, Reki is confronted with her past all over again.

Receiving and accepting forgiveness from the bird and forgiving herself releases Rakka from her sin-bound status (we will talk about it in more detail later). Being told this throws Reki into depression – the only person who was like her archived what she never could. Rakka being sin-bound gave Reki comfort, the feeling of not being alone; shared pain is half pain after all. But for Reki it feels, they are no longer the same and Rakka cannot empathize with her anymore. She feels confirmed to the idea that she always be alone. That Rakka is no longer sin-bound can be interpreted as a “betrayal” in Reki’s point of view, which fear of it is one of the main themes surrounding her. A fear that comes true in her eyes. Furthermore the information of the Communicator that Nemu is always worried about Reki drags her down further as she fears to burden Nemu, hindering her Day of Flight – something which she does fear she will never accomplish. Not receiving the Day of Flight/worring about Reki too much would delay Nemu’s Day of Flight and may cause her to “fall” as a Haibane. This is what Reki thinks. She feels guilty about Nemu caring about her, this is why she tells her not to see her as a burden (cementing her worldview of not being able to ask for help). This shows, even though she will feel lonely and she feels envy of the Haibane (especially Rakka), who can take their Day of Flight, she wants others to take their Day of Flight, even if it means to be all alone.        

 As her time runs out more and more, Reki isolates herself more and more. She makes preparation to leave, thinking she will disappear soon. She is giving Rakka her cigarettes reminiscent on how Kuu gave her coat to Rakka, making Rakka worried. Furthermore she gives Hyouko his bell nut, the symbol of apology, a week earlier because she thinks she wouldn’t make it until the festival. She isolates herself not only emotionally by covering her pain with a smile but also physically, locking herself up in her room.

Reki may have received forgiveness from Hyouko and Midori, but that doesn’t better her condition.

She is convinced that she is not allowed to ask for help or rather she is afraid to ask, because she fears nobody would answer what only would confirm her ultimate loneliness. Reki expresses the wish to become a unfeeling stone – she can’t stand her feelings, because she feels too much, especially pain. Becoming a stone – this not only dehumanizes her, but gives her no chance of communication, no opportunity of interaction. It also reflects how low she thinks of herself, a stone on the sidewalk nobody notices. That the younger version that appears to confront her turns into stone, makes Reki cry, trying to stop the process, hugging her petrified, dissolving self. She doesn’t want this, she doesn’t want to become a stone. She wants someone to do what she did to her younger self – hold her, stop her from emotionally dissolving.

As Rakka offers Reki her real name as a last straw, the name indicates that there was no salvation for her in the first place (something that Reki is already convinced off). “The one who was run over and torn apart” – this being reveled her true name, suggest that there is no hope for Reki, only despair, pain and death. Reki remembers her cacoon dream, remembers the despair, the helplessness and hopelessness, the feeling of being always betrayed and the strong sense of abandonment and loneliness that she felt at this time in her past life. But not only within her past life, but her life as a Haibane as she feels abandoned by Kuramori, the other Haibane who reach their Day of Flight, by Nemu, who she thinks she only sees her as a burden, by the Communicator who refused to talk to her after the incidence with Hyouko (as part of the montage in ep 13 implies, which may be why she didn’t trust him anymore), by Midori (even though the conflict resolved). And last but not least she feels abandoned by God, who won’t give her blessing despite of all that she tried. This, mixed with the despair stemming from the current situation, that she thinks she is really beyond help (confirmed by her nametag), lets Reki hit her lowest point. As a result, Reki pushes everything away ultimately. Her own life and identity. And  she pushes away Rakka, who can only watch helplessly. Reki claims to only care about herself and using Rakka as a tool for her own salvation. She opens up what she perceives to be her true feelings to Rakka: She tried to be a good Haibane to shed up the guilt that she felt all her life. But “being good” means to Reki that she was only accepted if she closed away her true feelings and acted that she was nice. Reki’s true feelings harshly clashes with what has been shown about her and her caring nature towards Rakka. To Reki, these feelings weren’t genuine. She harshly tells Rakka, her feelings for her weren’t genuine, but that it could have been anyone, that Rakka wasn’t necessary. Furthermore Reki expresses her jealousy towards Rakka, as both were sin-bound, but only she “was forgiven”. Her jealousy towards the happiness of others makes Reki hate herself even more. As the final straw Reki mentions the bet that she made with herself: That if she could make the Haibane that hatches from the cacoon trust her, that she would be forgiven. She says that to underline her selfishness to Rakka, who refused to believe that Reki is bad in any way. Reki refuses to believe in her own kindness, sees it barely as a facade to cover up her faults that she sees a her true personality (similar on how she dyed her wings to cover up the black spots. To her everything positive about her is just a cover, a facade for the “ugly” interior). By claming that her kindness has merely been a lie, Rakka is pushed away completely. Reki hates herself so much, that she pushes the last one away that she has, thinking she doesn’t deserve the love that she gets (just as Rakka used to think, which was made explicit during her conversation with the Communicator). She hates herself so much she can not accept the positive feelings towards her and does everything to push them away. Furthermore her plan to use Rakka for her own salvation failed, Reki abandons herself completely. Showing what she thinks is her true self to Rakka is relieving to her, since she doesn’t have to act anymore, can finally show how she really is and can finally get a reaction she thinks is appropriate to her (= abandonment). She tells Rakka to go out. Rakka, completely agonized and shattered by Reki’s words, leaves the room and Reki alone. This makes Reki’s isolation complete and her situation ultimately hopeless, because Rakka, who was the last hope to help Reki and the only one who was even trying, abandons Reki and feels to hurt and betrayed that it is unlikely that she will come again. Inside the room, Reki is isolated. Reki even compared the room to a cocoon, which is a symbol for isolation in itself as discussed before, emphasizing that theme. In the first episode, Reki said that there shouldn’t be help to break the cacoon – if there was help, the hatchling wouldn’t grow strong. This implied that she viewed to get help as a weakness right off the bat. But alone she can neither leave the cacoon nor her room nor her dream nor her negative self-image. All those words are synonyms in this situation. This is implied by how Reki said, that she never stopped having that dream – implying she never stopped feeling as worthless and guilty as she did in her past life. She was never awake and always in a dream – isolating her from the “real world”. She never stopped abandoning herself, as she abandoned herself on the railway.

When Rakka leaves, Reki has a conversation with a younger version of herself. A version, who actively wants to ask for help and saw this opportunity to help within Rakka, who reached out to Reki. Reki refused, says that she doesn’t deserve to be saved – her younger version desperately asked if she can’t even ask for it. She confronts Reki with her fears, if she was afraid to be betrayed. Reki agrees, agonizing, watching her younger self turn into stone and dissolving (symbolizing Reki’s wish to become a stone, Reki’s own loneliness [even a part of herself leaves her…by becoming that what Reki wanted. But Reki’s agony shows that she clearly did not want this] and her fear of vanishing if she can’t get salvation). She claims that there was no way of asking for help. After all salvation has never come to her. The younger self replies, it is because she never asked for help. She only did passively wait. By this, the younger self represents Reki’s own desires, not only turning into stone, but a Reki who wants to be helped, who isn’t afraid to ask. Reki on the other hand was too afraid for help, because being refused would confirm to her, that she was truly alone and nobody there to help her. Instead of acting she avoided it, the uncertainty was less agonizing than the possible truth and confirmation, that there was really nobody there for her. That somebody could help her never crossed her mind, due to that asking for help would mean to open up, to show her side that she considers “impure”, which would dispel any willingness to help from the person who offers help. Reki hugs her dissolving self, an act of despair (she can not stop herself from dissolving) and last act of self-care alike. Her other self vanishes and Reki is truly alone in her room. The painting comes alive and Reki is shown agonizing, waiting her fate. She knows what this fate is, since this situation perfectly mirrors her past experience, which she not only knows because of her dream but the as well as the letter which accompanied her true name.

Outside the door, deeply hurt Rakka begins to cry, thinking that she can’t love Reki anymore. And this would be the end of it…if Haibane Renmei wasn’t a story that would value connection, empathy and forgiveness.

  Breaking the circle of sin – breaking the circle of isolation

 Before talking about the theme of connection in Haibane Renmei further, this analysis will examine the Circle of Sin, as it presents itself as a closed, isolated system like a circle always leading back to the starting point – seemingly without a way to break free. Despite their name “sin” and “sin-bound” are original concepts within Haibane Renmei, working by their own rules which this analysis will try to approach. The first information we get about sin-bound Haibane are embedded in Reki’s and Rakka’s dialogue, after Rakka becomes sin-bound. Reki explains the sin-bound Haibane as Haibane who are not blessed and who are unable to remember their dream within the cocoon. Sin-bound Haibane are unable to receive their Day of Flight. Reki distinguishes between “good” and sin-bound Haibane – marking herself as bad in the process. During the dialog with Rakka on the other hand she claims that Rakka is not sin-bound because her feathers were charcoal when she emerged from the cacoon – Reki strengthens her point by telling Rakka that it was her who took care of her and saw this, emphasizing their connection in a positive way, using it as a proof for Rakka’s “goodness”. At this point Reki tries to comfort Rakka, but telling her that they are not alike creating a gap between them. On the other hand Reki is secretly comforted by the fact that Rakka is like her – explaining her feeling of loneliness when Rakka is no longer sin-bound. Within Reki’s explanation the title sin-bound seems like a condition that is inherited within a Haibane. As Reki views it, it can neither be obtained (as she denies that Rakka is sin-bound despite her black feathers) nor shed off (as she says, sin-bound Haibane can never achieve their Day of Flight). This reflects how hopeless she sees her own situation, having no hope in ever breaking her condition. She claims that it is something that just doesn’t work (because nothing she did to break from the condition showed effect) – but because nothing works it only strengths her despair and her feeling of being trapped in her situation. Again, at first it seems that there are “good” and “sin-bound” Haibane and there is no way of development and change. But when Rakka meets the Communicator within the forest, he discusses the circle of sin with her and we learn that there is more to the nature of “sin”.

The Communicator says that Rakka’s wings and Halo are the proof that she has no sins to be atoned. Noticing that Rakka bleaches her wings and her sin-bound condition and Rakkas question whether she was a sinner, leads the Communicator to tell Rakka a riddle. Rakka is convinced that she is a sinner and not supposed to be here – she feels that she doesn’t deserve the kindness she receives from the town. This leads to following dialogue, the Riddle of the Circle of sin.

 Communicator: "To recognize one's own sin is to have no sin. I ask you, are you a sinner.”

Rakka: “If the dream in my cocoon was real, then I think I am a sinner.”

Communicator: “Then, are you recognizing your own sin?”

Rakka: “If so, will my sin be erased?”

Communicator: "Then I ask you again. To recognize one's own sin is to have no sin. So, are you a sinner?"

Rakka: "But if I think I have no sin, then I become a sinner!"

Communicator: "Perhaps this is what it means to be bound by sin. To spin in the same circle, looking for where the sin lies, and at some point losing sight of the way out."

 There we see that Rakka proclaims herself a sinner no matter the circumstances. She thinks she is a sinner because of neglecting the person, who is represented by the bird, and was unable to acknowledge their care – leaving thinking nobody was there for her, unable to see someone was indeed with her, hurting the feelings of the person. Rakka equals “recognizing the sin” with “erasure of the sin”. But the Communicator corrects her, that “recognizing the sin” equals “having no sin” – therefore there is no sin to be erased. But Rakka misunderstands the remark, calling herself a sinner again – if she sets herself free from the belief that she has a sin and thinks she has no sin (= not recognizing it), she will become a sinner. This comment of the Communicator shows that this is, what he is talking about by the Circle of Sin: Being caught in the idea of being a sinner, being obsessed with the idea of a bad person and struggling with getting another perspective of oneself. This is not a sin, because there is no sin in the first place. Sin-bound Haibane don’t have sin – they are obsessed with the thought of having one, being obsessed with negative thoughts. A way out of the sin-bound condition is to make a “reality-check”, realizing that those intrusive thoughts are not true. This is shown with how Rakka was obsessed with the thought that she didn’t matter and that nobody would care about her – Rakka recognizes those thoughts and realizes that they don’t withstand reality. That indeed people care about her – this is highlighted not only with the bird, but with Reki (who hugs her when she finds her at the edge of the forest) and the other Haibane as well who desperately search for her. Rakka’s condition strongly paralleled with her situation in the past – in both time she realizes that there are people who love her and care for her and miss her when she is gone.

When Rakka consults the Communicator later on in Episode 9, there are other details about the Circle of Sin revealed. The key to break free from the Circle of Sin is forgiveness, especially forgiving oneself. But sin-bound Haibane are so obsessed with negative thoughts about themselves that they are not able to forgive themselves. Therefore another person is needed who stands by the side of the Haibane and believes in them. Offering forgiveness for the Haibane to their “sin” will break the Circle of Sin and enable the Haibane to take another perspective on themselves. Note that there is no “sin” and the Haibane are not shamed as being “sinful” for their depression. There is no sin. But there is the perception of being “sinful”, or to use other word “flawed” or “not worthy love” that leads the Haibane to be sin-bound. In other words: There is no “being bad” but only the perception of “being a bad person” that lead the Haibane to be obsessed with those ideas, their minds literally circle around it, their negative thoughts about themselves reflect in the black stains of the wings. But the reality is that they are not, but being forgiven for it (and the negative behavior that was caused by those thoughts) loosens the burden and enables the Haibane to forgive themselves. The escape from the Circle of Sin is not atonement or any sort of “making up for it” (this is why Reki’s attempt to reach salvation by taking care of Rakka didn’t work) – but sheer forgiveness. Rakka’s statement that it was not like she forgave herself, implies that forgiving oneself is not necessary to free oneself from being sin-bound. Receiving forgiveness from another person is enough, it is not necessary to be able to forgive oneself. On the other hand being able to receive forgiveness from others requires to forgive oneself to a certain degree. But forgiveness from others and being free from being sin-bound is only one step – the last step is to overcome to behavior and the thoughts that are bound by the perception of being a “bad person”.

This act of overcoming is shown with Rakka, who was obsessed with the idea that she was all alone – realizing that she is not, that people care for her, that she deserves to be happy and she starts to connect with others again. It is also shown with Reki finally asking for help (we will get to this in a minute).

But what makes a Haibane sin-bound? It is shown that the Haibane are born without memories but not without a blank slate as their emotional life. Rakka felt always insignificant, questioning herself and whether she had the right to exist. Those feelings erupted after Kuu’s departure where she questioned her existence even further and starts to isolate herself, thinking nobody would understand her, being afraid to open up to others and unable to receive their care - which she did before in her past life. Reki on the other hand is more obscure, since she had been sin-bound from the very beginning. But it is shown that she is born alone. Knowing how painful the progress is, Reki must have felt scared and abandoned, it is possible that she wanted help and even called for it – but nobody listened; which is exactly the thought pattern she had in her past life, which may confirm these already existing thought for her (even though she doesn’t remember, the feeling of always being betrayed and being unable to ask for help was still left). So a Haibane may become sin-bound if they fall back into destructive thought patterns that lead to their demise in their first life. It may also be called Circle of Sin because it never stops and it reaches from the previous life to the life of the Haibane. Connection to others, empathy and forgiveness are the key to overcome the “sin-bound” status. Breaking the Circle of Isolation means to break the Circle of Sin.

 But even before introducing this concept, connection, forgiveness and empathy is something the narratives values strongly.

Kuramori emphasized with Reki and connected to her, helped her with her wings, acted like a mother figure to her and helped her to find to place in Old Home. Reki forgave Nemu mistreating her, emphasized with her as she gave her food and both connect by caring for Kuramori.

Hyouko emphasized with Reki, as she was depressed due to the loss of Kuramori and wanted to help her. He and Midori gave her a new home and Hyouko wanted to do help her more since she understood how much she missed Kuramori. Even though the attempt to help her ended intro tragedy and a long time rip in their relationship, they are able to reconcile their relationship. While Reki is nearly to her darkest point and closing herself up in her room, entirely giving up on action or interaction (which is even emphasized due contrast by the fact that there is a festival, the sense of community and happiness), Hyouko and Midori seek out for her and sending her a message of forgiveness by using fireworks. While Reki has expressed her apology (and her goodbye) before by the bell nuts, she shuts herself up after this. But Midori and Hyouko reach out on their behalves, not allowing it to be a one-way-communication. The firework their launch for Reki represents their forgiveness. This leads to reconciling their relationship, something Reki had already given up to.

But even before reconciling and apology happened on a smaller scale, since Hyouko and Midori gave the Haibane from Old Home sweets. These sweets serve as an apology as Hyouko had made Rakka upset by talking about Kuu’s Day of Flight (that he apologizes for it underlines is empathic personality that he also showed with Reki. It is even possible that Rakka reminded him of Reki). The treat symbolizes the reconciling between Old Home and the Old Factory and serve as a thematic foreshadowing to Hyouko’s, Midori’s and Reki’s reunion.

Nemu is so worried and cares so much about Reki that it is introduced that the only thing that makes her stay in the town of Glie.

Reki supports Rakka after she becomes sin-bound, she reaches out for Rakka, when she started to cut herself of from everybody and avoids every contact because of the grief and shame she feels. She shows compassion to Rakka and hugs her, comforts her, tells her, that she did nothing wrong. Just like Kuramori treated her. On the other hand, Rakka is so emphatic enough that she notices how Reki hides her grief and sadness behind her smile. This becomes extremely noticeable as Reki cuts herself off more and more over the span of the last episodes and Rakka constantly ponders how she could help her. Rakka is both, extremely empathic and helpful and she loves Reki. This leads her to finally reach out to Reki as the final attempt to save her – and as the last opportunity – give her the tag with her real name.

 But as described above the situation escalates horribly, worsening Reki’s despair even more instead of saving her (which is symbolized by her wings turning even more black). She not only abandoned herself again, after realizing that she used to abandon herself and feel the same before and that there apparently no way out. Her harsh words to Rakka made Rakka abandoning her. This situation parallels three other constellations within the story. First of all, it mirrors the relationship between Reki and Kuramori. Reki was distraught because she thought, her mentor and mother figure betrayed her and never cared for her in the first place – now she is the one who betrays Rakka by telling her that she only used her as an attempt to ease her guilt, find salvation and be forgiven.

The other is that Reki’s past situation before becoming a Haibane is mirrored in her lowest point. Thinking she is worthless, being only betrayed and unable to ask for help.

The last situation is the constellation between Rakka and the bird. Rakka parallels Reki, as both cut themselves up from the world, convinced they are all alone and hurting another person in the process. Rakka parallels the bird who tries to save the other person, who is not able to accept their feelings. They want to convince them, that they are not alone, but they are hurt and unable to know what to do. Also, Reki’s room parallels Rakka’s well. Both are isolated places, where the person is locked in – either due physical or emotional borders. While Rakka’s well represented her feeling of emptiness, Reki’s room symbolizes the darkness of her heart (that she painted the room this way herself indicates that her negative self-image is not the real Reki. She paints the room as she paints herself in dark colors). In both cases, the past in confronted and overcome, both Reki and Rakka are able to overcome the sin-bound status. But there is still a long way to go before Reki is able to forgive herself…  

 Rakka is crying in despair, but she still refuses to think that Reki’s words are true. But she comes to the conclusion that she wished not to know, because she could continue loving Reki – implying that she can’t love her anymore. But Rakka’s view changes as she finds the painting of Kuramori which symbolizes that Reki once genuinely cared for a person. She says she wants to believe Reki, but is still in doubt. These doubts however vanish in another step, namely when she finds Reki’s diary. The first pages imply Reki’s hopelessness because she apologizes to Kuramori for not being forgiven. The next pages on the other hand show sketches from the town, showing that Reki still loved the town in a way despite viewing it as a prison. Last but not least one page shows Reki’s genuine, ecstatic happiness about finding the cocoon. She even thinks God send it to her – launching her thoughts that this Haibane could be a way to find salvation. She expresses that she wants to be very kind to the Haibane and wants to always be with her. She expresses her wish, that she wants to be a good Haibane, like Kuramori. The entry show that Reki doesn’t have ill intentions, she just wants to be a good person. This is empathized by the form of the diary, she writes it for herself and it is not intended to be shown to anyone. So Reki does not have to play-act – the diary implies that these are her true feelings. Feelings who are not as impure as she thinks they are. Rakka remembers as Reki talks to her when she was in the cocoon. How Reki expresses her happiness.  She says, that the initial period as a Haibane may scare Rakka and she may feel lonely, but she promises to be always there for Rakka, protecting her. Reki promises to be there for Rakka no matter what. With that she is showing her unconditional love before she was even born. On the other hand, Reki “entrusts Rakka with her last hope”. This is not the selfish enrichment that Reki makes it to be – it is putting trust into another person. And Rakka – realizing that Reki was there for her right in the beginning – fulfills that trust. She emphasizes with Reki with empathy as the key for forgiveness. She not only recognizes that Reki is kindhearted, but is not able to recognize it herself and that Reki’s self-image is not the necessary the real Reki and her real feelings. She realizes how similar hers and Reki’s situations are and decides to become “the bird” for Reki, somebody who offers her forgiveness and shows her that she is not alone and being loved the way she is. By this, Rakka not only chooses to forgive Reki, but finally also her own actions, who are extremely similar. By forgiving Reki, Rakka is able to forgive herself.    

Even though Reki shut herself in, Rakka wants to reach her, help her. The separation between both is symbolized by the door. This is reminiscent to the scene where Reki discovers Rakka being sin-bound. Rakka flees into the room, isolates herself, only for Reki opening the door, stopping her from hurting herself, giving her help and comfort, telling her that there is nothing wrong with her. Furthermore that parallels Reki’s past, when she was the one who cut her feathers, only to be stopped and comforted by Kuramori. Now it is on Rakka to overcome Reki’s self-induced isolation, to offer her comfort, to tell her, she is okay. In the current scene, Rakka opens the door, overcomes the isolation, breaks the cocoon from the outside – and steps right into Reki’s dream that became reality (similar how Reki’s negative self-image is reality to her). Rakka sees Reki lying on the railway in distance to her. As she tries to get close, connect with her, it is the younger Reki who holds her back, claiming that Reki is no longer able to hear her. This furthers the isolation between them too. The younger Reki claims it to be too late, paralleling the bird, who tried to stop Rakka’s fall with Rakka telling it that it is no use anymore. Rakka is in the same situation, trying to save a person but this person tell her it is too late and no use anymore. But Rakka doesn’t give up on her, calling out to her desperately. In before the younger Reki was used to contrast the real Reki, questioning her choices and symbolized the wishes Reki had and couldn’t make true, therefore she had an opposing role. This time, she acts according Reki’s wishes, holds Rakka back as Reki decided to vanish. But Rakka is – thanks to empathy – able to realize what Reki really wanted, able to realize that Reki is asking her for help. But knowing that she can only help Reki if she asks for help (because younger Reki holds her back because of Reki’s desire not to get help but to disappear), she calls out to her, asks her to say, Reki needs her. The train (not only representing a real train [reminiscent how Reki may have died in her first life by walking in front of a train] but also symbolizing Reki’s depression and struggles) is getting closer to Reki. In this moment, Reki is able to notice Rakka, is able to realize that Rakka truly cares for her and truly wants to help her – and is finally able to ask for help. This shatters the dream and Reki’s nametag alike, the younger Reki is dissolving. Rakka saves Reki from the incoming train, as she is paralyzed by fear.

Being forgiven by Rakka and forgiving herself through Rakka’s forgiveness by asking for help (if she hadn’t for forgiven herself, she would let herself run over regardless thinking she deserves it) frees Reki from her sin-bound status. Finally she is able to receive the Day of Flight. And this time, the Day of Flight is not seen as a negative event or as a loss, but as an opportunity to see each other again. Rakka and Nemu both view Reki’s Day of Flight with relieve and happiness for her, even though they will miss her.

In the end, Reki won her bet, as the Haibane emerging from the cocoon was the one who helped her to overcome her sin-bound status.

After she is gone, Reki is still valued. Everyone keeps her in good memories, her pictures are cherished and wall-hung for everyone to see. The last sentence of the whole series is Rakka saying “I will never forget Reki”, highlighting the value of memory and that a person is never gone when you remember them.  

 Reki’s and Rakka’s proneness to isolating behavior reflects in their names. For Rakka, it is Rakka’s “true name”, which has been presented to her by the Communicator. Her “true name” means “involved nut”. It reflects how she used to isolate herself from the world, shut herself up within the dark. Without willing to make any connections to the outside. It also represents her change, how she connected with other people. A nut is a seed (similar to the cocoons the Haibane start their lives in and that does eventually break same as Rakka’s isolation broke). A seed means growth, which reflected how Rakka grew. From a clueless newcomer Haibane with no idea about the world, she began to be actively involved with other people and the world around her. Even if learning about the world and herself was a painful progress (suffering from a loss, becoming caught up in her own grief), she overcomes this pain and reaches out for other people. By getting involved with the crows, she can receive forgiveness from the crow that represented a beloved person and save herself. By other people getting involved with her, she is saved vice versa e.g. how the Touga saved her in the well or how Reki shows her compassion after Rakka becomes sin-bound. She is no longer someone who cuts herself off from others, but interacts with others willingly. She became close friends with all her fellow Haibane and after being forgiven by the bird, she is able to accept their kindness. Most importantly she also chooses to involve herself in Reki’s problems, when everyone else thinks that is not possible (how Midori said Reki cannot be helped, because she doesn’t want help and gives up because of this. Rakka on the other hand doesn’t give up on Reki and stays involved). In the end, it is Rakka’s final choice of involvement and of action and her choice of forgiveness that saves Reki.  

While the isolation and breaking up this isolation is the main theme of Rakka’s true name, isolation is the theme of Reki’s name as a Haibane. Reki means “small stone”. It reflects her desires to become a stone in a sense of becoming unfeeling, numb to pain, but also unable to act or interact. While a seed has life in it and it has the possibility to grow, a stone is a dead, static object (this also reflects how Rakka was able to change, to get rid from being sin-bound while Reki wasn’t). So Reki’s name is a lot more depressing than Rakka’s, which has a hopeful perspective and indicates change. It gets even worse when Reki’s “true name” – that is supposed to reflect the true nature of a Haibane – means “The one who was run over and torn apart”, giving Reki’s name an even more negative, destructive and hopeless perspective. For Reki, there is no other perspective than being destroyed. Or so it seems. Because when Reki overcomes her own flaws, the name changes. In before Reki’s true name reflected the result her destructive behavior led to in the end and what is about to happen all over again: To be run over and torn apart. Both figuratively (by her own feelings) and literally (by the train). By changing, by being able to ask for help this time, Reki’s fate changes and so does her name.    

This is especially interesting because one would think a “true name” can not change, it is established and set in stone – but in Reki’s case it does according to the choice she makes. So it is very possible that Rakka’s “true name” was something else as well before she started to open up. Even if it is a “true name” it changes. Even something that is considered as someone’s “essential nature” may change! Even if her first “true name” was so negative and let Reki fall into despair – it still had the potential of changing. This is similar how Reki presented the sin-bound status, saying Haibane who are sin-bound can never reach their Day of Flight. That being sin-bound is not a set status is shown with Rakka at first, who becomes sin-bound and is also able to overcome being sin-bound over the course of the story. It is a fleeting status, nothing that is there forever. Nothing is set in stone. This also reflects in Reki’s relationship with Midori and Hyouko. It made the impression to be always strain, since they were even officially forbidden to interact with each other – but in the end they were able to reconcile their relationship and forgive each other. Reki who thought that there was never help for her and she would always be betrayed and that there was no salvation for her in the first place is proven wrong in all these aspects by Rakka. Reki’s true name returns to mean “stone” again – but this time it is a stepping stone. Someone who supports the weak with their strength. The stone that Reki represents is no longer an unfeeling, unconnected object, but something that interacts with others, connects with others, supports others. Her name highlights her caring nature, a nature Reki denied to have in her self-hate, but now is ultimately confirmed to her. Her “true name” and her name as a Haibane were both connoted negatively – but her new true name emphasizes gave her not only a positive true name but also a positive, hopeful connotation to her being a stone.    

 Haibane values connections to others and forgiveness. It doesn’t shy away from showing how people get hurt by loss and hurting each other and themselves and the effects of it. But in the end there stands the overcoming of grief and (self)hatred and grudge in favor of forgiveness, empathy and love.

On top of that it shows even if a situation seems to be hopeless and that there is no way out of it to the point that they are perceived as fate or “essential nature” – there is always, always the possibility of change and improvement.

the four loves, c.s. lewis // best friend, conan gray // how will i know, salman toor // i’ll be there for you, the rembrandts // the house at pooh corner, a.a. milne // dinosandcomics via instagram // aristotle // fifteen, taylor swift // the nut gatherers, william-adolphe bouguereau // euripides, anne carson

Tagged by: @im-a-bisexual-mess

Do you make your bed? Depends. Sometimes I forget. It’s not really made it’s just a couple pillows thrown somewhere and normally half tucked in.

Favorite number? 6

What’s your job? High school student, but I used to work part time at a restaurant, now I cat sit and baby sit three kids

Can you parallel park? Hell yee

A job you’ve had that surprises people? Swim instructor.

Do you think aliens are real? Yes

Can you drive a manual car? Not yet

What’s your guilty pleasure? Baking and eating it all

Tattoos? I don’t have any, but I want one on my hand or arm and my ribs.

Favorite color(s)? Cornstarch blue, burgundy, violet

Do people think you drive crazy? My mother does. But it’s my mother so.

Any phobias? Not good with heights.

Favorite childhood sport? Softball or ice hockey

Do you talk to yourself? Not really no

What movies do you adore? Little Women, Lady Bird, Book Smart, Disobedience, Tell It To The Bees, Harry Potter, um ye that’s all I can think of off the top of my head

Do you like doing puzzles? Yesh

Favorite kind of music? No preference. Really depends on the feel of the day

Coffee or tea? TEA BITCH

What’s the first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? SINGER/ACTOR

Tagged: @sinfuldisposition @hoeforhosie @noisydreamerbiscuitzipper @kloirdevan

2020 20 Questions Tag Game…

I was tagged by the sweet, @tumbler-tidbits xx

2. Favourite number? 6!!

3. What’s your job? Unemployed, university, criminology student.

4. If I could would I go back to school? I’m already there.

5. Can you parallel park? I can’t drive.

6. A job people would be surprised I had? The organic, raw, vegan cafe I worked in when I moved states.

7. Do you think Aliens are real? Yesh!!

8. Can you drive a standard car? I can’t drive, period.

9. What’s your guilty pleasure? Gosh... um... food?? Nothing I can really say comfortably... 

10. Tattoos? Not yet, but the desire is there.

11. Favourite colour? Blue. Veridian. Navy Green.

12. Things people do that drive you crazy? Chewing with their mouth full. Leaving rubbish around. Leaving dishes in the sink. Not cleaning out the fridge. Using the water I boiled in the kettle. I live in a share house... I have a few pet peeves...

13. Any Phobias? Sharks and deep, dark water.

14. Favourite childhood sport? Might not agree that it’s a sport, but I was really into ballroom dancing. Got trophies and all.

15. Do you talk to yourself? All the time. And in third person.

16. What movie do you adore? The Lion King is my fave.

17. Do you like doing puzzles? Sometimes.

18. Favourite type of music? Pretty mainstream pop, tbh...

19. Tea or coffee? Tea!! I have over $300 worth of tea, so yea...

20. The first thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up? Stripper/pole dancer. Wanted to make more money than my siblings combined. Baby Bamby was a genius!!

do u like how in the tags of a parallel i made myself i came up with a new parallel relating to summers character development i feel like you....... wow..... is this what its like to be galaxy brained

I NOTICED THAT i was thinking ‘pls colleen make THIS parallel too’. and yesh this is exactly what it’s like to live in my brain and i’ve never been prouder to know you’ve opened that floodgate! makes you feel powerful, right? invincible, even. once you unlock it you can never turn it off

ALSO SIDE NOTE

King Bran The Broken of the Six Kingdoms was kind of awesome only on the basis of the fact that I love Isaac Hempstead Wright and I wanted Bran to have a happy ending. but also really dumb because really bitches? Bran knew he was going to be king? fuck you.

Queen Sansa of House Stark of The North was FUCKING AMAZING. FUCK YESH YOU BITCHES BEST BOW, GODS DAMN! I FUCKING LOVED THAT CROWN SHE LOOKED SO FUCKING AMAZING FUCK!!! QUEEN IN THE NORTH FUCKERS!!!

Arya leaving made me sad but not really because that's who she is. I love that she had a wolf as the top of her Needle. and I love that she's going to find out what's West of Westeros. MY BRAVE BRILLIANT GIRL YOU MADE ME GET EMOTIONAL WITH PRIDE. That mothafuckin' Stark flag tho!

Not gonna lie, I loved the parallel between Jon, Sansa and Arya getting ready and walking that made me truly Happy, even if it was only for a second.

Lord Gendry Baratheon made me really proud for .2 seconds.

I love that Grey Worm left for Naath to, I assume, bury Missandei and protect the island.

Ser Brienne of Tarth writing in the Knights book (or whatever the fuck its called) about Jaimie and giving him a great final ending even though he left her.

Tyrion becoming Hand of The King was kinda dumb because it was a punishment and a gift which... I am confusion.

Fucking Bronn messing with Tyrion's perfectly placed chairs. Bronn's kind of a dick. "Lord of lofty titles" I love Daavos.

SAM HELPED NAME THE SONG OF ICE AND FIRE HOLY MOTHER OF SHIT. doesn't that confirm the theory that all of this was just Sam's retelling of Jon's story?? sorta?

Ser Podrick Payne made me extremely proud. He fucking deserved that shit.

That counsel scene was a fucking mess. Just sayin'.

Jon and Ghost. AWWW!!!!!

Jon and Tormund, leading the wildlings beyond the wall. Wow. Side-Side note, does Jon's small change in expression after the door on the wall closed mean that he's STAYING beyond the wall with the wildlings??

I hate that this show is ending. I hate how they ended with Dany's death. I hate that Dany never truly got to sit on the Iron Throne. I hate how Drogon just seemed to up and ditch because he seemed so distraught because his mommy died, I legit got teary eyed watching that. I hate that Jon was sentenced back to the wall, at least the first time around he chose it and had Sam.

Honest to gods, this whole episode was very rushed. I like how they created a counsel to dictate the next king/queen(most likely a king)[until some stupid fuck gets lazy/greedy and they go back to nepotistic form of Crown-passing]. If I'm completely honest I liked the way it ended the endings (except for Jon's and Dany's, and a little bit Bran's) felt right. But there really should have been a ninth season. They should have made a ninth season to slow everything down and make it make sense. Especially Dany's.

Investigating the Rainbow Body

by Michael Sheehy

If we look across spiritual traditions, we find the human body is broadly envisioned to be a vessel that contains the essence of existence and transformation — a container, likened to clothes that are to be stripped off or a boat that is to be abandoned once one has reached the breaking shore at death. Similarly, there are modern philosophical and scientific models that conceive the body to exist separately from the mind, the kind of mind/body dualism that Gilbert Ryle described as a “ghost in the machine.”

Though we find practices of bodily abandonment and denigration throughout Indian spirituality, the Vajrayana Buddhist traditions that were received and developed in Tibet — due to the synthetic collaborations of Buddhism with the arts and sciences of medicine, astrology, alchemy, and physiology that occurred during the formative period of tantra during the seventh through ninth centuries — place an emphasis on the body as a locus of transformation. Similar to Daoist traditions of alchemical transformation, there are Vajrayana traditions that say that all tangible matter consists of congealed forms of the five elements: space, air, fire, water, and earth. As described in The Tibetan Book of the Dead and illustrated in the murals of the Lukhang or so-called Secret Temple of the Fifth Dalai Lama in Lhasa, there are cosmogonies that suggest the elemental energies that make up the cosmos are undifferentiated from those that make up the human body, and as such the body is a holon, simultaneously the individual person and the cosmic whole.

In Dzogchen cosmology, the primordial space of the cosmos is envisioned as being utterly open and translucent. Due to the natural effortless play of the cosmos itself, movement ensues. With this initial gesture, however slight, the element of air stirs up wind that oscillates rapidly into fire; from fire emerges the liquidity of water, and from water the solidity of rock and earth are stabilised. With this gradual gravitational collapse into the elemental forces that comprise the cosmos, a concomitant spiralling reconfigures matter into worlds wherein embodied beings emergently form. As such, the body is conceived to be a part of the whole, seemingly fragmented from itself. Not unlike contemporary astrophysics, Vajrayana traditions view our bodies to be an evolutionary product of billions of years of bathing in bright light.

Describing the reversal of this gestation process, The Tibetan Book of the Dead details the dissolution of these five elements during the time of death. First the body becomes heavy and sags as the earth element dissolves, saliva and mucus are excreted as the water element dissolves, the eyes roll backward as the fire element dissolves, the breath becomes wheezy as the air element dissolves, and finally consciousness flashes and flickers with turbulent visions as the space element dissolves from the physical body.

According to Dzogchen tradition, under certain circumstances the cosmic evolutionary process of gravitational collapse into solidity can turn itself back into a swirling, highly radiating configuration. That is, there are Tibetan traditions that suggest that meditative technologies can intentionally reverse this process of collapse, thereby altering the gravitational field so the inherent radiance of these condensed elements blossom. When this happens, the five elements of the body transform into the five lights of the colour spectrum. The Tibetan name given to this fluorescence is jalu, literally translated as “rainbow body.”

Material bodies dissolving into light is the subject of Rainbow Body and Resurrection by Father Francis V. Tiso, a priest of the Diocese of Isernia–Venafro who holds a PhD in Tibetan Buddhism. Exploring the body as a vehicle of spiritual transformation, this book presents Father Tiso’s research on postmortem accounts of the rainbow body of Khenpo A Chö (1918–98) in eastern Tibet, historical background on Dzogchen and early Christianity, and a comparative discussion of the rainbow body and the mystical body of Christ.

Father Tiso introduces his work by acknowledging that because research on postmortem paranormal phenomena cannot be conducted in a laboratory, there are inherent tensions that exist in conducting scientific investigations while relying on the good word of faithful informants. Seeking to take the approach of a participant observer in the tradition of anthropology, Tiso’s chapter on Khenpo A Chö is largely a series of journal logs from fieldwork in eastern Tibet and India and transcripts from interviews with local eyewitnesses.

What is missing at the beginning of the book is an overview about rainbow body phenomena in Tibet. In addition to references to pre-modern episodes found in Tibetan literature, such as mentions of Padmasambhava’s consort Yeshe Tsogyal going rainbow, reports of rainbow bodies have been emerging from Tibet sporadically over the past century. Perhaps the best known among English-reading Buddhists is that of Yilungpa Sonam Namgyel, who went rainbow in 1952, as recounted by the late Chögyam Trungpa in his memoir, Born in Tibet. There is also the case of Changchub Dorje (1826–1961?), a medical doctor and leader of a Dzogchen community in the Nyarong region of eastern Tibet, about whom we have stories from his living disciples, including Lama Wangdor, and from Chögyal Namkhai Norbu’s The Crystal and the Way of Light. Other well-known cases include: Nyala Pema Dudul (1816–1872), whose life story was written about by the great Nyingma master Mipham Gyatso (1846–1912); the Bonpo meditation master Shardza Tashi Gyaltsen (1859-1935); Lingstsang Dzapa Tashi Odzer; and Khenchen Tsewang Rigzin (1883–1958). Also within the past few years there have been several reports such as those of Lama Achuk (1927–2011), Khenpo Tubten Sherab (1930–2015), and most recently, the mother of Lokgar Rinpoche. What is striking about many of these exceptional figures, including Changchub Dorje and Khenpo Tubten Sherab, is that they tended to be unflashy and nonchalant about their meditative accomplishments. In fact, there are numerous stories in Tibet of inconspicuous nomads and illiterate common folk who shocked their communities by going rainbow.

One particularly fascinating social dynamic that has emerged since the Cultural Revolution — and this has affected the reporting of numerous cases — is that the Chinese government has declared going rainbow to be illegal. In effect, because the phenomena so dramatically challenge the normative paradigm, there has essentially become a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy about masters going rainbow in Tibet. For instance, Changchub Dorje’s shrunken bodily remains were hidden from authorities for years until the proper ceremonies could be openly performed.

So what exactly does rainbow body look like? According to these traditions, there are signs that indicate an adept has stabilised meditative realisation of the mind’s innate basic radiance. While alive, it is said that the bodies of these beings do not cast a shadow in either lamplight or sunlight; at death, signs include their physical bodies dramatically shrinking in size, and their corpses exuding fragrances and perfumes rather than the odours of decomposition. A common Tibetan metric for the shrunken corpse of a body gone rainbow is the “length of a forearm.” In the case of Khenpo A Chö, as Father Tiso notes, the local Chinese press reported that his body “shrank to the size of a bean on the eighth day and disappeared on the tenth day. What remain are hair and nails.” Other signs are the sudden blooming of exotic plants and flowers anytime of year and, of course, rainbows appearing in the sky.

These signs mark someone who has attained rainbow body, and some are said to have occurred in each of the cases mentioned above. However, there is also a special kind of rainbow body known as the great transference into rainbow body, or jalu powa chemo. This is the complete transference of the material body into radiance so that the only residue of the body is hair and fingernails. Great transference is a deathless state. Realised by Dzogchen meditation masters such as Garab Dorje and Padmasambhava, the great transference rainbow body is understood to be the actual enlightened qualities of these realised masters. Not unlike Christian saints, these qualities are understood to be continually available for beings to receive through the reception of light.

While it is tempting to draw parallels between the luminous bodies of Dzogchen meditation masters and saints, or even with the risen mystical body of Christ, Father Tiso goes one step further. Discussing the exchange of religious ideas along the Silk Route, and possible historical influences of Syriac Christianity and Manichaeism in the pre-Buddhist civilisation of Tibet, he asks if the first human teacher of Dzogchen, Garab Dorje, could have been a Christian master imported from the Middle East — or even the messiah himself.

The strength of Father Tiso’s book is its tremendous and ambitious breadth. He brings to the reader’s attention a broad spectrum of doctrinal and historical information not only about what he refers to as the “Church of the East” and possible doctrinal influences of Christian light mysticism on Tibetan religion but also about early Dzogchen practice. Discussing encounters of Christianity with Buddhism and Daoism, he cites little-known Christian mystics, including the Desert Fathers of Egypt, Evagrius, Abraham of Kashkar (ca 501–586), and John of Dalyatha (ca 690–786), all of whom he argues were critical figures in spreading the “religion of light.”

One example of this cross-fertilisation with which Father Tiso tantalises us is the Jesus Sutras, seventh-century Christian texts that were preserved among the caches of manuscripts discovered in the Central Asian cave complexes at Dunhuang. Thought to be have been produced by the Church of the East and Syro–Oriental Christian communities who travelled along the Silk Route, these texts remarkably borrow literary forms and devices employed in Buddhist sutra literature while echoing doctrinal claims of Christian theology in typical Buddhist parlance. For instance, similar in arrangement to many Mahayana Buddhist sutras, these texts present a question-and-answer dialogue about topics of spiritual self-cultivation, except instead of speaking with the Buddha, the interlocutor is the Messiah Christ.

Am I convinced that a Church of the East influenced Dzogchen in Tibet? Was Garab Dorje actually Jesus Christ? Did Christian light mysticism have a significant historical impact on the formation of yogic technologies that culminated in Tibetan expressions of rainbow body? These are certainly alluring questions. However, that’s not entirely the point. Father Tiso makes a compelling case by bringing his reader an intercultural, cross-historical, and inter religious discussion of the esoteric arts. To what extent there was bona fide synthesis among these meditative traditions from Egypt and Syria to China and Tibet is a discussion that warrants more attention and that this book propels forward. What’s most important, however, is that this work brings attention to the shared human experiment of contemplative transformation.

Why the discourse about Palestinian payments to prisoners’ families is distorted and misleading

New Post has been published on http://khalilhumam.com/why-the-discourse-about-palestinian-payments-to-prisoners-families-is-distorted-and-misleading/

Why the discourse about Palestinian payments to prisoners’ families is distorted and misleading

By Shibley Telhami The war of narratives on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has intensified as the Trump administration is poised to leave the scene. As the New York Times recently reported, the Palestinian Authority (PA), whose relations with President Donald Trump were poisoned by his one-sided Middle East plan, is eager to build a new relationship with the incoming Joe Biden administration. Supporters of Israeli plans to annex parts of the West Bank would prefer to prevent this from happening. One of the issues standing in the way of U.S.-PA rapprochement is a PA system of monthly payments to families of prisoners held in Israel for political crimes, and to families of those killed in conflict, including those charged and convicted by Israel of terrorism. In 2017, Congress adopted legislation — the Taylor Force Act —  which restricts assistance to the PA until it stops such payments. PA critics have labeled the system “pay to slay” — a clever and memorable name tag, but one that’s bigoted and distorted. It also distracts from the central culprit: 53 years of an Israeli occupation that has stunted and broken hundreds of thousands of lives. “Pay to slay” suggests that the PA pays Palestinians in order to kill Israelis and, worse, that those who commit violence against Israel are motivated to do so principally by monetary compensation for their families. Neither stands scrutiny, and making such insinuations is wrong and incendiary. Let’s start with the facts. Whatever one says about the PA and its president, Mahmoud Abbas — including its governance shortcomings, divisions, and political paralysis — Palestinian policing and security coordination with Israel have been an essential and highly successful element of Israeli security for years. This is to the chagrin of many Palestinians who are frustrated that PA security forces cannot, in parallel, protect them from the reach of Israeli forces or settlers. As one analyst put it, such coordination is “the one thing that has managed to keep the West Bank under control, and prevent events … from setting off a chain reaction that could end in a third intifada.” Abbas himself has consistently opposed violent resistance, including opposing the Palestinian embrace of the second intifada, the uprising that followed the collapse of the Israeli-Palestinian negotiations in 2000. The idea that payments to families are key drivers of violence doesn’t add up. Israeli collective punishment against the families of those accused of terrorism can be swift and severe. It can involve the demolition of the family home, sometimes rendering elderly parents, siblings, spouses, and children homeless — a practice that violates the Geneva Convention and has been condemned by international organizations and human rights groups. Any would-be attacker that might theoretically be motivated by family support payments in his or her absence would have to take these devastating factors into account. Punishment aside, one would have to assume that Palestinians are unlike other people in being able to ignore not only the personal risk of being killed or jailed, but also the emotional devastation and disruption that this would cause to the lives of their loved ones, simply for the promise of monetary stipends for the family. This isn’t to say that payments to prisoners’ families by the Palestinians, and the demolition of family homes by Israel, are non-factors in any calculation of a would-be perpetrator. The point is that the principal motives under occupation are usually political. Those living under occupation are often prepared to act and to pay a price, with or without either of the above practices in play. Also consider the significant variations in the frequency of violence over time, even as these practices have been in place.

Understanding the context

The context for the broad support among Palestinians for those imprisoned by Israel is that they see most of those jailed as victims and resisters of an illegal occupation. By 2009, it was already estimated that 700,000 Palestinians, including thousands of minors, had been detained since the Israeli occupation began; between 2017 and 2019 alone, 5,000 Palestinian minors between the ages of 12 and 18 were arrested. Few families have been untouched among the five million Palestinians living in the West Bank and Gaza. As an occupying power, Israel readily labels Palestinians as “terrorists,” including those who may not have been charged or convicted of a crime. Some are considered “terrorists” by common international definitions of terrorism adopted by independent human rights organizations, such as in cases of attacks on civilians; others are not. Prisoners include hundreds held for long periods in administrative detention without charge or trial. Unlike their settler neighbors who are tried for crimes under Israeli civil laws, Palestinians are tried in military courts — including those charged with nonviolent speech or protest activity — which have a near-100% conviction rate. Thus, Palestinian attitudes toward the prisoner family payment system have to be understood through the lens of their lived experiences. Under occupation, Palestinians have few protections from violence carried out by Israeli settlers or soldiers. According to the Israeli group Yesh Din, between 2005 and 2019 over 90% of cases of crimes against Palestinians were closed without any indictments. It is also all too common for Israeli soldiers to receive only minor punishments after being found guilty of taking a Palestinian life without cause, such as in the recent case of Eyad al-Hallaq, a young autistic man chased down and killed by a border policeman while walking with a surgical face mask and rubber gloves in hand. Families of Israelis who commit crimes against Palestinians certainly don’t suffer house demolitions, and in fact can find support: For example, the Israeli NGO Honenu (which receives tax-exempt contributions in the U.S. and Israel) has provided family support aid to Israelis in the wake of crimes against Palestinians (and even to the assassin of former Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, Yigal Amir, and his wife). In this context — with universal mistrust of the Israeli occupation system  — there is strong public support among Palestinians for prisoners and their families. The PA has also argued that if innocent families of those imprisoned or killed are left without support, more would be radicalized, increasing rather than decreasing the likelihood of violence.

A Symptom, not a root cause

Both sides have suffered greatly from this conflict. Israelis have suffered hundreds of civilian casualties, particularly during the violent second intifada. Still, throughout the Israeli occupation, the overwhelming majority of those killed in conflict have been Palestinians; from 2000 to 2014, for example, the Israeli human rights group B’Tselem recorded 8,166 conflict-related deaths. Of those, 7,065 (87%) were Palestinian and 1,101 (13%) were Israeli. Over 100,000 Palestinians have been wounded since 2008, and over 90% of the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza have known nothing but life under occupation. There is no end in sight to land expropriation, lack of basic freedoms, and lack of access to impartial justice. Eager to turn the page on the Trump administration and reach out to the new administration, the PA has now signaled its openness to address the current structure of its prisoner payments policy, though it remains unclear how, especially given how the Palestinian public feels about this issue. But the worst thing for our public discourse would be to pretend that this practice — not the unending occupation — is a root cause, rather than a symptom, of the ongoing conflict and the central problem that needs urgent tackling. That would not serve the goal of a just peace that’s sorely needed.