when i was a child, i knew how to love.
but grown up people called this knowledge naivette and ignorance, and they instead taught me how to discriminate, which was a nice way to say that they taught me how to hate. and as i listened to the grown up people more and more, i learned to see things as they did. and when i looked upon people i had once simply loved, it was as though they had been transformed (deformed) and transfigured (disfigured). they were no longer simply who they were, and my relationship to them wasn't a simple enjoyment of their presence and company. it was as though they were held at a distance, and everything about them was no longer innocent, but tainted by motives.
and thus it was that i learned the ways of the world, which were primarily the pathways of hatred.
i am older now, and i can see the folly of the worldly view (even though once it was something to aspire to). but it is hard to return to the pure and simple innocence that i once had; it is hard to trust love. this, nevertheless, is the thing which i must do. this, after all, is the only way to redeem the world: not to correct it, but to remember how to love it, in all its simple glory.
never forget this, that love was not something taught to us; it always already was. it was the world that taught us to hate. and we were all quick studies in a fundamental falsity.
***
parents always wish the best for their children. but in wishing the best, don't discriminate. don't discriminate aspects of the child, and don't discriminate between your child and others. this is perhaps the hardest thing to do. but if you overtly do this, then you covertly teach your children to discriminate within and amongst themselves, and discrimination is on a slippery slope with hatred.
i can clearly remember the words of one nearby parent, who stated proudly that her child was going to punahou (a private school) because she didn't want her child to associate with mediocrity.
i am glad that my daughter and son have not learned to look down on anyone, but approach all with open arms and open heart. someday (soon) the world will teach them to choose their friends wisely; but it is my hope that they will never completely forget how to love. for this is the path that saves the world, this is the labor of the peacemaker, that he can find a way to love the unlovable.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Change
I have exported (to hard drive) all previous entries of this blog. There were several reasons for this.
First of all, I am getting close to self-publishing "Marsilani 4." I posted early versions of many of the stories and poems in this blog, and thought that I would be defeating the purpose of publishing them if they could be accessed by anyone in the blog format.
Second (and this has been an ongoing concern for me), the blog has become more well-known, despite my infrequent, awkward posts, and I think I may have posted several things that should not have been broadcast to the world. Don't get me wrong. I intend to continue to "write my mind" on this blog. However, I vow to be more careful and responsible about what I post, particularly when it may hurt other people's feelings or interests.
Finally, I simply wanted a change. A lot has happened recently, most significantly, the death of my Ewa Beach grandma. Such things have ramifications, and this "new start" for my blog is a reflection of this.
I hope that I continue to provide the people who read my blog with something significant, or interesting.
First of all, I am getting close to self-publishing "Marsilani 4." I posted early versions of many of the stories and poems in this blog, and thought that I would be defeating the purpose of publishing them if they could be accessed by anyone in the blog format.
Second (and this has been an ongoing concern for me), the blog has become more well-known, despite my infrequent, awkward posts, and I think I may have posted several things that should not have been broadcast to the world. Don't get me wrong. I intend to continue to "write my mind" on this blog. However, I vow to be more careful and responsible about what I post, particularly when it may hurt other people's feelings or interests.
Finally, I simply wanted a change. A lot has happened recently, most significantly, the death of my Ewa Beach grandma. Such things have ramifications, and this "new start" for my blog is a reflection of this.
I hope that I continue to provide the people who read my blog with something significant, or interesting.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
this afternoon, my grandma died.
she had been vomiting constantly for nearly a week. apparently, towards the end, it was primarily fecal matter, even though her stomach had been empty for quite a long time. because of the assumed blockage in the intestines, she had been given something to "irritate the bowels" and facilitate passage. unfortunately, one of the side-effects of this medication was arrhythmia, and this has been cited as one possible cause of what eventually occurred. of course, it could also have been that she had been so weakened and "poisoned" by the backflow.
i visited my grandma on thursday alone, and at that time had to wipe up some of her recent vomit. i spoke to her then, briefly. she seemed cogent but tired.
i visited my grandma again on friday, with the kids. i performed the sazuke on her (which she seemed to appreciate), while the kids drew pictures for grandma.
the weekend passed, and i was "busy" with easter things.
then, on monday night, at around midnight, my grandma coded. our family rushed over. by the time most of us arrived at the hospital, she had pulled through. however, her brush with death had not been without consequence. she was intubated and a central line was providing pressins to maintain her dropping blood pressure. a ventilator filled her lungs up like a balloon, and then she would collapse with each recoiled exhale. i remember touching her leg, and i recall her spasming after that. my brother took that as a good sign: spontaneous movement.
today was tuesday. i visited grandma at around noon. her situation was the same, but it was grim: ideally, her blood pressure should have stabilized, but it remained low, even with a large dose of vasopressins (?). my brother came in, explained a few things to me. he checked her pupillary response at one point, then mentioned to another doctor that things didn't look good (negative pupillary response: brain damage).
at around 3:30 pm, i got another call. my brother told me that she was coding again, and this time, it was likely to be the last...
***
my grandma... how can i explain what she was to me? i feel numb and dead. sometimes, like my grandma's depressed blood pressure, i want to stir myself up by feeling the only thing that i am passionate about: i tell myself how much i hate myself, for not feeling, for not ... but stubbornly, i return to this deadness, this hollow feeling. i felt myself reaching for memories to make me feel, to feel something, anything. why was i so cold and matter-of-fact about everything? but when i started to feel, when i started to cry, i began to hate myself more, because it seemed like i had to manipulate myself to even feel anything. my grandma was so much a part of my life- why didn't it hurt more? why didn't it make me ...
at the moment, i don't care much about anything. tired. but can't sleep.
my grandma wasn't supposed to die like this. i mean, i'm glad it was quick, but my grandma had a lot of years left in her. she was sharp, active. she had mentioned having a 90th birthday. it's not fair.
i keep thinking about her pulling me aside, having me sit beside her, so she could give me a sermon. i never really listened to her sermons. they seemed antiquated. but i listened to the love she felt, her constant unflagging support. i don't know what the world will be like for me now. it will be as though the earth beneath my feet has grown fragile and hollow. i don't think i can trust anything any more.
***
a collateral issue: as my grandma was dying, after her second code, i decided to pick my sister up. she was staying at a drug-court house, and she didn't have a car. i felt it was important that she get to say her goodbyes. my mom decided to come, even though i told her that her place was with her mother. anyway, we drove from pali momi to kalihi valley, and on the way back, fighting all that late afternoon traffic, we learned that my grandma was coding again. in fact, by 4:45, when we were still stuck, we learned that she was pretty officially dead.
i didn't really feel it, the regret, at not having been there. at least not then. neither did my mother. or, she hid it, pacified any regrets with verbal assurances, as though she were convincing herself. my brother felt real anger, that again, because of my sister, the family hadn't been together at this critical moment...
maybe it was a dumb idea. but i thought that, with all my sister's other regrets, this one would be a killer... to not be able to say goodbye.
lynn had been at the hospital at 4:45. she told me she spoke to my grandma for me, and i appreciated that...
i love my sister. i really miss her. things may be messed up, but i will always vouch for her. even if i do kill her relentlessly in my writings.
***
there are always consequences. but i don't care. i am falling off the edge of the world. no one really sees me anyway, me and my impotent compassion which is really a mask for sediment apathy. my heart is stone. and that stone is at the bottom of the sea. i am gentle with my wife and children, and with those i meet, but it is the gentleness of the dead man, it is the gentleness that arises from an inability to feel much of anything... again, the only thing that stirs me is the deep and original hatred i have always felt towards myself. a frustrated desire to not exist.
i will do right by my grandmother. i don't have a soul or a heart like she did, but i at least can try to help people as she did... relentlessly.
she had been vomiting constantly for nearly a week. apparently, towards the end, it was primarily fecal matter, even though her stomach had been empty for quite a long time. because of the assumed blockage in the intestines, she had been given something to "irritate the bowels" and facilitate passage. unfortunately, one of the side-effects of this medication was arrhythmia, and this has been cited as one possible cause of what eventually occurred. of course, it could also have been that she had been so weakened and "poisoned" by the backflow.
i visited my grandma on thursday alone, and at that time had to wipe up some of her recent vomit. i spoke to her then, briefly. she seemed cogent but tired.
i visited my grandma again on friday, with the kids. i performed the sazuke on her (which she seemed to appreciate), while the kids drew pictures for grandma.
the weekend passed, and i was "busy" with easter things.
then, on monday night, at around midnight, my grandma coded. our family rushed over. by the time most of us arrived at the hospital, she had pulled through. however, her brush with death had not been without consequence. she was intubated and a central line was providing pressins to maintain her dropping blood pressure. a ventilator filled her lungs up like a balloon, and then she would collapse with each recoiled exhale. i remember touching her leg, and i recall her spasming after that. my brother took that as a good sign: spontaneous movement.
today was tuesday. i visited grandma at around noon. her situation was the same, but it was grim: ideally, her blood pressure should have stabilized, but it remained low, even with a large dose of vasopressins (?). my brother came in, explained a few things to me. he checked her pupillary response at one point, then mentioned to another doctor that things didn't look good (negative pupillary response: brain damage).
at around 3:30 pm, i got another call. my brother told me that she was coding again, and this time, it was likely to be the last...
***
my grandma... how can i explain what she was to me? i feel numb and dead. sometimes, like my grandma's depressed blood pressure, i want to stir myself up by feeling the only thing that i am passionate about: i tell myself how much i hate myself, for not feeling, for not ... but stubbornly, i return to this deadness, this hollow feeling. i felt myself reaching for memories to make me feel, to feel something, anything. why was i so cold and matter-of-fact about everything? but when i started to feel, when i started to cry, i began to hate myself more, because it seemed like i had to manipulate myself to even feel anything. my grandma was so much a part of my life- why didn't it hurt more? why didn't it make me ...
at the moment, i don't care much about anything. tired. but can't sleep.
my grandma wasn't supposed to die like this. i mean, i'm glad it was quick, but my grandma had a lot of years left in her. she was sharp, active. she had mentioned having a 90th birthday. it's not fair.
i keep thinking about her pulling me aside, having me sit beside her, so she could give me a sermon. i never really listened to her sermons. they seemed antiquated. but i listened to the love she felt, her constant unflagging support. i don't know what the world will be like for me now. it will be as though the earth beneath my feet has grown fragile and hollow. i don't think i can trust anything any more.
***
a collateral issue: as my grandma was dying, after her second code, i decided to pick my sister up. she was staying at a drug-court house, and she didn't have a car. i felt it was important that she get to say her goodbyes. my mom decided to come, even though i told her that her place was with her mother. anyway, we drove from pali momi to kalihi valley, and on the way back, fighting all that late afternoon traffic, we learned that my grandma was coding again. in fact, by 4:45, when we were still stuck, we learned that she was pretty officially dead.
i didn't really feel it, the regret, at not having been there. at least not then. neither did my mother. or, she hid it, pacified any regrets with verbal assurances, as though she were convincing herself. my brother felt real anger, that again, because of my sister, the family hadn't been together at this critical moment...
maybe it was a dumb idea. but i thought that, with all my sister's other regrets, this one would be a killer... to not be able to say goodbye.
lynn had been at the hospital at 4:45. she told me she spoke to my grandma for me, and i appreciated that...
i love my sister. i really miss her. things may be messed up, but i will always vouch for her. even if i do kill her relentlessly in my writings.
***
there are always consequences. but i don't care. i am falling off the edge of the world. no one really sees me anyway, me and my impotent compassion which is really a mask for sediment apathy. my heart is stone. and that stone is at the bottom of the sea. i am gentle with my wife and children, and with those i meet, but it is the gentleness of the dead man, it is the gentleness that arises from an inability to feel much of anything... again, the only thing that stirs me is the deep and original hatred i have always felt towards myself. a frustrated desire to not exist.
i will do right by my grandmother. i don't have a soul or a heart like she did, but i at least can try to help people as she did... relentlessly.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
apologies
sorry i haven't been actively blogging. i've been working a lot on marsilani. i have finalized (at least tentatively) marsilani part 4, and put it in book format. i hope to receive a copy of it tomorrow. i will look it over, see if it is decent, and if it is, i'll release it via lulu.com. (sure, there are other venues, but this is so far the easiest). i'll let you all know first! (i know, i'm probably talking to myself here).
with concern about marsilani 4 out of the way, i can tackle the next easiest part, part 1 (life in the trenches). the stories were actually all completed, but due to great dissatisfaction on my part, and because i wanted a kind of resonance between stories of part 1 and those of part 2 and 4, i decided to scrap the final three stories, and start nearly from scratch... so that's what i'm obsessed with now.
so far, story 1 from part 1 (the backwards carp) has received a lot of good feedback from the reviewers at reviewfuse. i'm content that it is "comprehensible," and may simply work out a few kinks. but in the meantime, the story that was supposed to be the second one, "amphibious part 1," will likely replace "the backwards carp" as story 1. i am reworking this one from scratch. this is the story with the kappa. i've hinted at my interest in kappa before, and now, this is my battleground, to see if i can incorporate all of my so-called research into a viable story...
once amphibious 1 is out of the way, then i suspect (or hope) that amphibious 2 "kaeru" will kind of write itself. "kipapa," the final story of part 1, has some well-written sections, but requires a massive overhaul in terms of dialog and the incorporation of an entirely new storyline, the "flashbacks" of ghosts. also, i think i need to give "hamlet" a once over, just to be sure there is resonance (i want to almost re-enact hamlet and ophelia's doomed relationship).
... a lot to do, but i'm kinda excited. i feel a sense of urgency with this. these stories/poems have been mulling around in my head for SO LONG. it will be such a relief to get them down and released. then, i can relax in the knowledge that people will have been able to read my strange thoughts... and i can MOVE ON...
***
meantime, i have a lot of other stuff to do. taxes, for one. easter. these massive projects for my two sped classes. and my remaining observation lessons. it's going to be a killer this next month or so. but i'll make it...
with concern about marsilani 4 out of the way, i can tackle the next easiest part, part 1 (life in the trenches). the stories were actually all completed, but due to great dissatisfaction on my part, and because i wanted a kind of resonance between stories of part 1 and those of part 2 and 4, i decided to scrap the final three stories, and start nearly from scratch... so that's what i'm obsessed with now.
so far, story 1 from part 1 (the backwards carp) has received a lot of good feedback from the reviewers at reviewfuse. i'm content that it is "comprehensible," and may simply work out a few kinks. but in the meantime, the story that was supposed to be the second one, "amphibious part 1," will likely replace "the backwards carp" as story 1. i am reworking this one from scratch. this is the story with the kappa. i've hinted at my interest in kappa before, and now, this is my battleground, to see if i can incorporate all of my so-called research into a viable story...
once amphibious 1 is out of the way, then i suspect (or hope) that amphibious 2 "kaeru" will kind of write itself. "kipapa," the final story of part 1, has some well-written sections, but requires a massive overhaul in terms of dialog and the incorporation of an entirely new storyline, the "flashbacks" of ghosts. also, i think i need to give "hamlet" a once over, just to be sure there is resonance (i want to almost re-enact hamlet and ophelia's doomed relationship).
... a lot to do, but i'm kinda excited. i feel a sense of urgency with this. these stories/poems have been mulling around in my head for SO LONG. it will be such a relief to get them down and released. then, i can relax in the knowledge that people will have been able to read my strange thoughts... and i can MOVE ON...
***
meantime, i have a lot of other stuff to do. taxes, for one. easter. these massive projects for my two sped classes. and my remaining observation lessons. it's going to be a killer this next month or so. but i'll make it...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)