yes, i'm here again...
today, we went over to the farmer's market, right at the end. just as i was walking in, one of willow's teachers recognized me, and stopped to talk to me (i'm not sure how he knew it was me, as i was wearing my requisite face mask). the teacher is very friendly and seems very dedicated. he is one of the few teachers who seems to make repeated efforts to contact and engage students. i know there are some teachers out there who haven't reached out at all- and we are more than a month into this quarantine!
anyway, i got my french dip sandwich from the lady and the pig. it is so much that it accounts for my breakfast and my lunch. i eat half of the sandwich in the morning, and then later, when i start getting hungry again, i consume the second half and drink the "dip." great stuff...
***
i don't know who i perform for. margaret atwood speaks of an ideal reader. she says that we aren't writing for readers en masse. we are always writing for a particular reader; a reader who, as she says, cries when s/he's supposed to, laughs at the rest... someone who understands. someone who has both the intellect and the heart to understand... i also appreciate her citing emily dickenson, who felt that writing is our "letter to the world." separated in time and place from that environment of the reader- reaching across this abyss- like some unspeakably risky bridge, being built into above some fog shrouded emptiness- never knowing your construct will find relief in another shore.
is all of life for this?
who do i perform for?
***
i thought, as i was walking the dog this evening, of doing a meditation on the koan of love. how there are people we should love, and yet, have a difficulty loving. why is there often no congruence between our hearts and our heads (and maybe other parts)? why is there always this dissonance and even resistance? i often cite that quote from haruki murakami, something about how fairness is a human construct, a fiction imposed upon the universe. true, but so what? how can we convince ourselves of that fiction? how can we make that apply through and through? i guess it's important, because- well, because i don't understand why i can't be- consistent.
i also don't understand something about how i treat musubi, our little dog. i tend to be cruel to him. not abusive, necessarily, but mocking. i know i've had this problem before. i recall once, on a trip to japan, when i happened to be one of the elder kids, i sort of befriended this younger boy. i thought i was being jovial and showing my camaraderie with him when i joked about him, teased him about some girl or something or other. but it turns out i really hurt his feelings. i've also done that to other people- abused them, without really meaning to. why do i do that?
i think of my brother, and the way he dismissed my feelings. is that way of thinking imprinted on me? that way of discounting weakness, of belittling it? i hate that. but there is something in me that rejects being too kind sometimes. it forbids me from being too gentle. it's complex, like a knot, but it, on the one hand, makes me less masculine, and- i don't know- there's a sense- a warped sense- of justice about it all. like the world is cruel, and i'm going to show that to you...
as musubi gets older, and i notice he gets more and more tired- i realize i should be merciful.
i also realize that i have a jealous heart. and if i can't be the one that is the "favorite," the true love of someone, then i push that person, that dog, away. i reject it first. maybe it is because i am used to that. how everyone fauned over my fucking brother. if they only knew, i would think. and i would push them away. because it hurt, having the world only see him. always see him. and only always see the bright side of him, while he pushed my head into the shit. i learned to hate the world for that. maybe i still do.
there's this fantasy drama in my head- that, when i am, as i feel, unjustly ignored- then i stalk off into the emptiness and train. maybe that's my whole fetish with monasticism. was it really to be strong and find emptiness, or did i- do i- always think that someone will feel sorry for me, maybe even long for me, maybe even feel regret for me? (and maybe, secretly, feel desire for me? no... that is an entirely different register- again... that contradiction between what is just, and what is the plain, bald-faced truth. lust/desire/love occupies a different register from respect/admiration. i think i will see this soon with sydney carton. i don't know the story, but i suspect he will do something grandiose and self-sacrificing- but no matter what, he will NOT be loved... just as i will not be loved. just as the world will always love my brother, but never me. never me.)
Monday, April 27, 2020
Sunday, April 26, 2020
4/26/2020
this weekend, i am cycling pretty rapidly through my routines. it is already the third cycle.
i disposed of the cherry tomato plant. it was sad, but as time progressed, you could visibly see the wilt occurring. the entire plant was drooping. whereas yesterday, at the very least, the new leaves looked promising, by today, everything was falling. so i just pulled the entire monstrous thing by its roots. it took a significant amount of the hydrocorn (the clay pebbles that serve as the substrate for the grow bed). it also left a kind of mud behind. i'm not sure if that's healthy or not, but after i removed the plant, the waters in the fish tank turned a muddy, murky brown, opaque... on a positive note, the removal of that monstrous cherry tomato plant appears to have opened up space and sunlight for the surrounding plants, which, quite frankly, were being smothered out.
my gradual weeding efforts on the front lawn seem to be progressing (although that is an eternal task). i noticed that i could not find those little red-stemmed mimosa-leafed weeds clustering near a grass patch (as they are wont to do; hiding out; those little bastards). that's not to say that they weren't there, but they weren't as visible. this led me (or leads me) to thinking about the nature of problems. how we allow them to grow so that they are visible enough or important enough to address... because to hunt down every single little weedling seems... well, obsessive. and unrealistic.
my vegetable plants in the front right planter box seem to be doing well. but i am daunted by the death of the cherry tomato. it can happen literally overnight, the infestation of an otherwise healthy plant. everything i have is vulnerable.
***
i read a few chapters of berserk. i think i watched this part in that little montage of clips on youtube. but it is truly a tragic life. to have been sold into abuse by someone you considered to be your own father. and to have been blamed by said father for everything; the death of your adoptive mother, the loss of a leg... what i consider hopeful in the story is the idea that ruthless training can make one a force to be contended with... along with relentless will. even the godhand would pay attention to him.
***
my wife bought me mustache wax. i still have to learn how to use it. the mustache and beard thing is growing- well, slovenly. i notice the wind when it blows, because the hair around my mouth moves with the wind. i also notice it's hard to eat cleanly. some of the food (especially soup, or milk from a cereal bowl) gets wet, and i'm sure there are little bacterial colonies that form in the remnants... so i would like to trim the mustache at the very least.
***
ok, see ya!
i disposed of the cherry tomato plant. it was sad, but as time progressed, you could visibly see the wilt occurring. the entire plant was drooping. whereas yesterday, at the very least, the new leaves looked promising, by today, everything was falling. so i just pulled the entire monstrous thing by its roots. it took a significant amount of the hydrocorn (the clay pebbles that serve as the substrate for the grow bed). it also left a kind of mud behind. i'm not sure if that's healthy or not, but after i removed the plant, the waters in the fish tank turned a muddy, murky brown, opaque... on a positive note, the removal of that monstrous cherry tomato plant appears to have opened up space and sunlight for the surrounding plants, which, quite frankly, were being smothered out.
my gradual weeding efforts on the front lawn seem to be progressing (although that is an eternal task). i noticed that i could not find those little red-stemmed mimosa-leafed weeds clustering near a grass patch (as they are wont to do; hiding out; those little bastards). that's not to say that they weren't there, but they weren't as visible. this led me (or leads me) to thinking about the nature of problems. how we allow them to grow so that they are visible enough or important enough to address... because to hunt down every single little weedling seems... well, obsessive. and unrealistic.
my vegetable plants in the front right planter box seem to be doing well. but i am daunted by the death of the cherry tomato. it can happen literally overnight, the infestation of an otherwise healthy plant. everything i have is vulnerable.
***
i read a few chapters of berserk. i think i watched this part in that little montage of clips on youtube. but it is truly a tragic life. to have been sold into abuse by someone you considered to be your own father. and to have been blamed by said father for everything; the death of your adoptive mother, the loss of a leg... what i consider hopeful in the story is the idea that ruthless training can make one a force to be contended with... along with relentless will. even the godhand would pay attention to him.
***
my wife bought me mustache wax. i still have to learn how to use it. the mustache and beard thing is growing- well, slovenly. i notice the wind when it blows, because the hair around my mouth moves with the wind. i also notice it's hard to eat cleanly. some of the food (especially soup, or milk from a cereal bowl) gets wet, and i'm sure there are little bacterial colonies that form in the remnants... so i would like to trim the mustache at the very least.
***
ok, see ya!
Saturday, April 25, 2020
4/25/2020
i am in a fever to cycle through my routines in ever higher and dizzying heights. progress. spiraling progress...
unfortunately, one of the plants, perhaps the oldest, the one remnant from my first generation of aquaponics plants, is suffering from what i believe to be a scale insect infestation. i have tried to prune the dead branches, and clean off the scale insects, which look like white powdery dots. i have sprayed the plant with neem oil... but it seems as though as the day progresses, the more the plant degenerates. even the healthy branches are now seeming to droop. it's getting to the point where i suspect that there are deeper problems with the plant. i noticed, as i clipped one of the older stalks, that there was some kind of white worm thing hanging out in the woody hollow of the stalk. maybe that's the culprit?
this again highlights the vulnerability of planting anything outside. while nothing replaces actual sunlight, putting plants outside makes them extremely vulnerable to attack by a multitude of invisible pests. i remember earlier this year when some sort of moth attacked my zucchini plant. the zucchini plant had been the model of healthiness, producing large yellow blossoms, and at least 4 zucchinis. and then, overnight, it died. when i looked closely at the stalks of the plant, i noticed the telltale holes, which resembled the spaced holes of a flute... it angered me, it filled me with despair. but what can you do?
i suppose i could try to construct some sort of greenhouse. or screen the plants off. but i'm not sure what the tradeoff would be. i mean, would i reduce access of MYSELF to the plants? and would i be cutting down the amount of available sunlight that the plants accessed? not sure... all i can say is, it seems as though attacking pests is usually too little too late. by the time you notice there's a problem, the plant is already irretrievably lost.
***
not sure...
***
what is it that i want? and what dreams fuel the actions i take? and are those dreams consistent, morally, with my present self? and are those dreams rational? should they be? at times, it seems that the motivations for things don't necessarily jive with our present structured self. i know all of these are constructs: present, structured, self. but we need this convenient fiction to survive. and, again, we invent these illusions, these notions of progress, these goals and objectives, in order to pretend movement. because movement is important. (why?)
one thing i haven't been doing much of is meditating. it's hard to clear that space and time amidst this quarantine. there is no silence, or privacy. and people demand attention. (as they should) but i'm not sure if meditation will actually lead to something productive. more often than not, it is the acid bath that dissolves all of my fictitious efforts. or rather, it makes of my efforts a fiction that i cannot believe in or adhere to... which leads me into this soup of waste. which i hate. i idealize life as being one that is productive. one that does not hesitate. one that moves when it should, and stays still when it should. i don't know how else to put it...
***
reach. stretch. do not regress... (but maybe all aging is a regression, a folding in, alas).
unfortunately, one of the plants, perhaps the oldest, the one remnant from my first generation of aquaponics plants, is suffering from what i believe to be a scale insect infestation. i have tried to prune the dead branches, and clean off the scale insects, which look like white powdery dots. i have sprayed the plant with neem oil... but it seems as though as the day progresses, the more the plant degenerates. even the healthy branches are now seeming to droop. it's getting to the point where i suspect that there are deeper problems with the plant. i noticed, as i clipped one of the older stalks, that there was some kind of white worm thing hanging out in the woody hollow of the stalk. maybe that's the culprit?
this again highlights the vulnerability of planting anything outside. while nothing replaces actual sunlight, putting plants outside makes them extremely vulnerable to attack by a multitude of invisible pests. i remember earlier this year when some sort of moth attacked my zucchini plant. the zucchini plant had been the model of healthiness, producing large yellow blossoms, and at least 4 zucchinis. and then, overnight, it died. when i looked closely at the stalks of the plant, i noticed the telltale holes, which resembled the spaced holes of a flute... it angered me, it filled me with despair. but what can you do?
i suppose i could try to construct some sort of greenhouse. or screen the plants off. but i'm not sure what the tradeoff would be. i mean, would i reduce access of MYSELF to the plants? and would i be cutting down the amount of available sunlight that the plants accessed? not sure... all i can say is, it seems as though attacking pests is usually too little too late. by the time you notice there's a problem, the plant is already irretrievably lost.
***
not sure...
***
what is it that i want? and what dreams fuel the actions i take? and are those dreams consistent, morally, with my present self? and are those dreams rational? should they be? at times, it seems that the motivations for things don't necessarily jive with our present structured self. i know all of these are constructs: present, structured, self. but we need this convenient fiction to survive. and, again, we invent these illusions, these notions of progress, these goals and objectives, in order to pretend movement. because movement is important. (why?)
one thing i haven't been doing much of is meditating. it's hard to clear that space and time amidst this quarantine. there is no silence, or privacy. and people demand attention. (as they should) but i'm not sure if meditation will actually lead to something productive. more often than not, it is the acid bath that dissolves all of my fictitious efforts. or rather, it makes of my efforts a fiction that i cannot believe in or adhere to... which leads me into this soup of waste. which i hate. i idealize life as being one that is productive. one that does not hesitate. one that moves when it should, and stays still when it should. i don't know how else to put it...
***
reach. stretch. do not regress... (but maybe all aging is a regression, a folding in, alas).
4/24/2020
and just like that, it's three days later. in addition to addressing my work responsibilities, i guess i kind of got stuck on my routines, and i was also wrestling with this inexplicable exhaustion that struck me over the past two days. i would make a brief call with a student and then crash on the sofa. the sleep felt like- well, like something inevitable. but just like rising from the ocean, the water of sleep made me feel heavy, and it seemed harder and harder to rise out of it. instead of feeling refreshed, i just felt more and more tired...
i still wrestle at times with dreams. with impossibilities. with anger. with rage.
i suppose i hate it when my position is threatened. my first reaction (after the disbelief) is to lash out. to defend myself. i suppose some of it is irrational. i justify it by claiming grievances from the day i was born, second, to an asshole. but i guess just because you were hurt before doesn't mean you have a legitimate claim to justice. and the violent hatred that you have accumulated within you from years of abuse, well, it is blind, and lacks discrimination. witness the french revolution (which i am reading about in "a tale of two cities").
honestly, some of the descriptions of the maddening crowd, the mob, found in that book seem- both horrifying and- prophetic. i worry that our world will turn into that one. we already have a mob of complete stupidity (i can feel the hate in me rising up). i hate, most of all, how those who support trump tend to be the most religious. i, who studied religion, who understand the motivations behind some of those phenomenon, who actually wanted to invest myself in those phenomena... well, now i call complete bullshit. the arrogance of those who hold a position of judgment over the world. i hate the smugness of those people, who are operating out of complete irrationality and ignorance... "in the name of." how can they live with themselves?
***
in any case... i don't know what else is really on my mind. i guess... i'm just blah-ing now. this is my blah-g.
***
one of my insights... i suppose i've mentioned this before... but in my old age, i can't push too hard to do anything. or else it all pushes back. and, again, there is a kind of guilt that accompanies that push back. sort of like a disruption in the current. have you ever seen water in confusion? at the juncture of multiple flows? there is a bubbling up that represents chaos and confusion. i don't like that disruption. i like the clarity of a clear path, an inevitability of direction. i wish life were always like that...
in the end, you make a choice, whether you make a choice.
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
4/21/2020
another day. today, i conferenced with several of my students, and had a brief meeting with the grade 5 team. after, and in between, i checked on some of my plants. i noticed that the bitter melon died pretty quickly, i believe because i overfertilized it, and basically burned it. i also noticed that the lima bean bush is starting to exhibit signs of burning as well, with leaves taking on this dry yellow color. i'm hoping that the plant is established enough to survive my "good intentions." the rest of the plants seem to be doing well (cross my fingers and hide by [black] thumbs).
i also worked on my routines: exercises alternating with activities that are more "cognitive", and meant to stretch my capacities. things like reading a chapter of a good book, drawing something, learning my kanji, learning how to program, and other things... right now, i'm kind of tired, worn out from some of the workouts that i've done, piecemeal, throughout the day. things like the ab ripper x exercises (i do about 3 every rotation) and the legs and backs stuff (i do about 6 of those). i'm no spring chicken, and i feel i have to respect my limitations, or i'll end up incapacitated for a month. :)
the writing has been- hard. i have a good idea for how to proceed with the story, but the execution of it- well, it's been slow going. i think part of the problem is that, for a while, i've been using the word count to motivate me, to just blindly accumulate words words words. but when i realized things weren't exactly working, or there were some deep inconsistencies, then i had to cut things down. so i went from almost 14000 words to something above 12000. not exactly motivating when you edit your work down. but again, i've got a better sense of direction. and i hope the motivations of the characters will make more sense. i also had a good idea for a device (or explanation). the main character of the kappa noodle story has a lament, that he basically feels he has no soul. the kappa explains that he must have a hole, a leak, or something, through which all the "water" drains out. and he needs to find where that hole is to plug it up... i just realized that the main character could be this rare individual who is born without a soul. in the world of old japanese culture, this would be explained by his lack of a shirikodama, a sort of ball (physical) that holds your soul, located somewhere within your anus (i believe it's a delicacy of the kappa, and they love to pull it out of your ass and swallow it whole, essentially killing you). the main character's lack of a shirikodama would explain why there's no "plug" in him, resulting in the perpetual drain of his self- his motivation, his drive, his feelings of anger... this problem isn't necessarily "solved." it's just explained. the main drive of the story is the return of the boy to his own home, supported by his progressive recollections of his brother.
(i think this makes for a better story than my original, in which the kappa was attempting to relive a memory of a fictitious brother, through vicariously experiencing the main character's memories of his problematic relationship with his brother).
***
i despair of our country. behind everything is this internal frustration that we have essentially elected an asshole, the king of a party of assholes, with an inconsistent philosophy hiding (barely) greed and corruption and hypocrisy. i can't understand the people who still support this idiot, who IS going to bring our country down to the bottom of the shithole.
***
oh well, nothing much else to report.
i also worked on my routines: exercises alternating with activities that are more "cognitive", and meant to stretch my capacities. things like reading a chapter of a good book, drawing something, learning my kanji, learning how to program, and other things... right now, i'm kind of tired, worn out from some of the workouts that i've done, piecemeal, throughout the day. things like the ab ripper x exercises (i do about 3 every rotation) and the legs and backs stuff (i do about 6 of those). i'm no spring chicken, and i feel i have to respect my limitations, or i'll end up incapacitated for a month. :)
the writing has been- hard. i have a good idea for how to proceed with the story, but the execution of it- well, it's been slow going. i think part of the problem is that, for a while, i've been using the word count to motivate me, to just blindly accumulate words words words. but when i realized things weren't exactly working, or there were some deep inconsistencies, then i had to cut things down. so i went from almost 14000 words to something above 12000. not exactly motivating when you edit your work down. but again, i've got a better sense of direction. and i hope the motivations of the characters will make more sense. i also had a good idea for a device (or explanation). the main character of the kappa noodle story has a lament, that he basically feels he has no soul. the kappa explains that he must have a hole, a leak, or something, through which all the "water" drains out. and he needs to find where that hole is to plug it up... i just realized that the main character could be this rare individual who is born without a soul. in the world of old japanese culture, this would be explained by his lack of a shirikodama, a sort of ball (physical) that holds your soul, located somewhere within your anus (i believe it's a delicacy of the kappa, and they love to pull it out of your ass and swallow it whole, essentially killing you). the main character's lack of a shirikodama would explain why there's no "plug" in him, resulting in the perpetual drain of his self- his motivation, his drive, his feelings of anger... this problem isn't necessarily "solved." it's just explained. the main drive of the story is the return of the boy to his own home, supported by his progressive recollections of his brother.
(i think this makes for a better story than my original, in which the kappa was attempting to relive a memory of a fictitious brother, through vicariously experiencing the main character's memories of his problematic relationship with his brother).
***
i despair of our country. behind everything is this internal frustration that we have essentially elected an asshole, the king of a party of assholes, with an inconsistent philosophy hiding (barely) greed and corruption and hypocrisy. i can't understand the people who still support this idiot, who IS going to bring our country down to the bottom of the shithole.
***
oh well, nothing much else to report.
Monday, April 20, 2020
4/19/2020
i'm keeping with my routines. in fact, i had the vision of the relentless cycling of my routines, so much that i spiral up and improve dramatically... but yes, tomorrow begins the working with the kids again, and all of my other obligations, so that's not really going to happen. but i can dream, can't i? this idea of approaching perfection. or at least, making a difference.
so this morning, after an early start, and monitoring the plants and washing the dishes, i went with my wife over to the farmer's market at mililani high school. i bought an oxtail pho, and some thai iced tea, and some spring rolls (i didn't eat those, my wife did). my wife, for her part, was looking for some special honey that she had used in her teriyaki sauce (it was GOOD). and then we went back home...
later, i convinced lynn to go out again. we headed out to the windward side of the island. i think that the very first place we went to was the aquaponics store in waimanalo. i actually spent $80 there. asked the guy that worked there (i think his name is travis) about hydroponics. he gave me a brief run-down, something about how plants have a vegetative state and a fruiting/blooming state. some plants have only a vegetative state (like lettuce, or other leafy greens, where the "vegetable" is the leaves of the plant), whereas others that go through a blossoming phase and a fruiting phase... well, you get the idea. anyway, travis explained that these require two different nutrient solutions... so i got them, and i also got something for algae (just remembered it!) because one of my aquaponics tanks has water that is murky green from all the algae that has taken up in it. (don't know why it is just that tank- the first tank, the original one, turned a murky brown due to all the tannic acid buildup in it- and then, when exposed to sunlight, it cleared up- and now, it's starting to turn brown again).
after the aquaponics store, we went over to bob's pizzeria in kailua. we ate a couple of slices while they were fresh. then, we headed over to foodland to pick up a couple of flowers to lay at lynn's family graves. it was slim pickings over at foodland, but we managed to get 3 roses, in varying states of decay. we headed over to the memorial grave (i can't quite remember what the name of the graveyard is, but it is the big one that you can see when you come out of the tunnel on the windward side). we found the hashimoto graves quickly, and she laid the flowers while i disposed of the trash.
our last stopoff before heading home was to the koolau farmers store. like the aquaponics place, it was actually pretty busy. i guess that home gardening is a big thing during this whole coronavirus thing. anyway, i got about 5 recumbent junipers. i decided to use them in the middle to back end of the planter box on the right side of my house, because 1) that side is dedicated to being more ornamental (complimenting the walking path), 2) there is less sunlight there, so it's inappropriate to plant vegetables, and 3) i'm hoping that when those plants get big they serve as a deterant against all the stinking cats...
*****
anyway, nothing much else to report.
i feel a mild sense of panic when i think about the state of the world right now. the warning sign is that there are long lines at the food bank. whenever people go hungry, then things go to shit. that's my opinion. unfortunately, we have the worst government right now, run by republicans. if we fail, it's not because of the disaster of the virus, but the disaster of mismanagement and corruption that "addressed" it.
you heard it here first. :P
so this morning, after an early start, and monitoring the plants and washing the dishes, i went with my wife over to the farmer's market at mililani high school. i bought an oxtail pho, and some thai iced tea, and some spring rolls (i didn't eat those, my wife did). my wife, for her part, was looking for some special honey that she had used in her teriyaki sauce (it was GOOD). and then we went back home...
later, i convinced lynn to go out again. we headed out to the windward side of the island. i think that the very first place we went to was the aquaponics store in waimanalo. i actually spent $80 there. asked the guy that worked there (i think his name is travis) about hydroponics. he gave me a brief run-down, something about how plants have a vegetative state and a fruiting/blooming state. some plants have only a vegetative state (like lettuce, or other leafy greens, where the "vegetable" is the leaves of the plant), whereas others that go through a blossoming phase and a fruiting phase... well, you get the idea. anyway, travis explained that these require two different nutrient solutions... so i got them, and i also got something for algae (just remembered it!) because one of my aquaponics tanks has water that is murky green from all the algae that has taken up in it. (don't know why it is just that tank- the first tank, the original one, turned a murky brown due to all the tannic acid buildup in it- and then, when exposed to sunlight, it cleared up- and now, it's starting to turn brown again).
after the aquaponics store, we went over to bob's pizzeria in kailua. we ate a couple of slices while they were fresh. then, we headed over to foodland to pick up a couple of flowers to lay at lynn's family graves. it was slim pickings over at foodland, but we managed to get 3 roses, in varying states of decay. we headed over to the memorial grave (i can't quite remember what the name of the graveyard is, but it is the big one that you can see when you come out of the tunnel on the windward side). we found the hashimoto graves quickly, and she laid the flowers while i disposed of the trash.
our last stopoff before heading home was to the koolau farmers store. like the aquaponics place, it was actually pretty busy. i guess that home gardening is a big thing during this whole coronavirus thing. anyway, i got about 5 recumbent junipers. i decided to use them in the middle to back end of the planter box on the right side of my house, because 1) that side is dedicated to being more ornamental (complimenting the walking path), 2) there is less sunlight there, so it's inappropriate to plant vegetables, and 3) i'm hoping that when those plants get big they serve as a deterant against all the stinking cats...
*****
anyway, nothing much else to report.
i feel a mild sense of panic when i think about the state of the world right now. the warning sign is that there are long lines at the food bank. whenever people go hungry, then things go to shit. that's my opinion. unfortunately, we have the worst government right now, run by republicans. if we fail, it's not because of the disaster of the virus, but the disaster of mismanagement and corruption that "addressed" it.
you heard it here first. :P
Sunday, April 19, 2020
4/18/2020
tonight, i yelled at my son because his report card was not good. i hated the way it made me feel. later on, when i went to call him down for dinner, i found him in his room, and in his closet, in the dark, crying. i tried to talk to him and tell him that although i was disappointed, i still loved him, and that it was not the end of the world. i tried to tell him that no matter what happens, we pick ourselves up and try again... you know, all those sorts of platitudes.
i guess as a father, i'm sort of a disappointment (in myself? in him?). i never really worked my son. i never pushed him. i guess there was a moment in the past that sort of shocked me out of doing anything like that. when my son was in kindergarten, and he had the WORST teacher ever (i don't care how much people like her, or shower her with accolades and praise- to my son, and to me, she was the WORST teacher), well, i realized i kind of lost my temper when he couldn't tell me what a rectangle was- this after all that time in preschool and all that time working with him. and then when the counselor talked to me about the ialac (it's an acronym for "i am lovable and capable"), and how my son's ialac had been hurt- well, it broke my heart. and i promised myself that i wouldn't get that angry with him again.
it's been difficult. i sometimes think that my son needs someone to push him, to structure his life... but at this point, i kind of feel it's too late. he has formed his life. he makes his own decisions. i can make recommendations, but ultimately it is his choice to take them. i don't know if i'm just being lazy or what, but i neither think that i should get so up in his business that it is no longer his business, nor should i communicate anything that damages his ego. yes, i know, there's all this talk nowadays about how this generation of parents is coddling their kids- but whatever.
i love my son, and i suppose there is a feeling of hesitation whenever i see him hurt. like, maybe i had planted that in him. and i don't want him to ever feel that, that self-hatred. i mean, i wrestle with that to this day. it haunts me still. i don't want him to feel like that. i want him to feel safe in his own skin.
***
i managed to plant the plants in the planter box. i guess i mentioned that yesterday, but i suppose i'm still riding on that. i made a decision to do hydroponics outside, using the old round buckets (that we used to use for practice drums for taiko). there are a couple of problems: 1) i don't have a lot of the supplies, like pH monitors and such, nor do i have the nutrient solution; and 2) i don't have the plants ready for the hydroponics yet. i guess there's a third factor, and that is that i don't really know all the intricacies of hydroponics yet. in a sense, aquaponics is easier in that it really does mimic a natural cycle. and hopefully, in aquaponics, if everything is going right, then you don't have to mess with it much... but i'll gradually try to figure it out.
***
a couple of insights:
1) i sometimes live my life with this sort of gentle pressure. i mean, i have a sense of the goals i want to achieve, but i've learned not to push too hard for any one thing. i guess, in my experience, there is this inevitable push back and accompanying guilt if i try too hard and focus too much on any one thing. life is round, after all. and even with me gently addressing each thing, i neglect so much! but in any case, i had this vision of coal turning into a diamond... or that line from shawshank redemption, something about how all that is needed to change things is pressure and time. yes, with a lot of my goals, i kind of skitter around, seemingly not doing anything much for them, but just sort of touching this or touching that. at times, i surprise myself with the impetus or force with which i do things. but usually, i just walk around the idea of doing something...
why is there this push back? is that what holds me back from being more forceful? am i afraid of making mistakes?
2) i can't really recall the second insight now. but... i guess there is still attachment to the "sumptuousness" of life, of youth. i said before, there is fear of decrepitude, of old age, because from my perspective it just seems like this degeneration, this loss, this emptiness. but maybe it's because i have a mistaken notion of emptiness. i know that when shodo was trying to teach me about the concept of emptiness in buddhism, that that was one of the greatest errors: to think of emptiness in a limited sense, like some sort of void or something. the character for emptiness is the same as that for the sky- which can help you get a sense of what emptiness is really all about- some vast openness that allows for all possibilities. i wish i could glimpse that sky someday. i never managed to realize enlightenment under shodo, and as time passes, i think it is less and less likely that i ever will. i no longer have the discipline to do something like that. life impinges on me all the time, and i am comfortable in my decadence... i don't know.
sometimes i wonder why i do or why i did everything that i do/did. i still hold in my mind this image of some feminine figure, like some sort of angel or something, that looks down upon me and approves of my actions. it's an endearing image. or rather, an enduring image. i'm married and all, but it still stays with me. i'm doing something for approval, and for release. i don't know how else to explain it. i guess that's why i write, as well. to reach some audience, to move them. but it's kind of complicated nowadays, because i question whether the audience even exists. i mean, art is not solipsistic, or it shouldn't be, but it also isn't just a capitulation to the needs and desires of the other. i like to think that it is a flowing out of the author- his or her perspective...
anyway... i don't know what else to really write about.
i wish life made more sense. i wish i were consistent with my thoughts, my feelings. but i guess that's life.
i guess as a father, i'm sort of a disappointment (in myself? in him?). i never really worked my son. i never pushed him. i guess there was a moment in the past that sort of shocked me out of doing anything like that. when my son was in kindergarten, and he had the WORST teacher ever (i don't care how much people like her, or shower her with accolades and praise- to my son, and to me, she was the WORST teacher), well, i realized i kind of lost my temper when he couldn't tell me what a rectangle was- this after all that time in preschool and all that time working with him. and then when the counselor talked to me about the ialac (it's an acronym for "i am lovable and capable"), and how my son's ialac had been hurt- well, it broke my heart. and i promised myself that i wouldn't get that angry with him again.
it's been difficult. i sometimes think that my son needs someone to push him, to structure his life... but at this point, i kind of feel it's too late. he has formed his life. he makes his own decisions. i can make recommendations, but ultimately it is his choice to take them. i don't know if i'm just being lazy or what, but i neither think that i should get so up in his business that it is no longer his business, nor should i communicate anything that damages his ego. yes, i know, there's all this talk nowadays about how this generation of parents is coddling their kids- but whatever.
i love my son, and i suppose there is a feeling of hesitation whenever i see him hurt. like, maybe i had planted that in him. and i don't want him to ever feel that, that self-hatred. i mean, i wrestle with that to this day. it haunts me still. i don't want him to feel like that. i want him to feel safe in his own skin.
***
i managed to plant the plants in the planter box. i guess i mentioned that yesterday, but i suppose i'm still riding on that. i made a decision to do hydroponics outside, using the old round buckets (that we used to use for practice drums for taiko). there are a couple of problems: 1) i don't have a lot of the supplies, like pH monitors and such, nor do i have the nutrient solution; and 2) i don't have the plants ready for the hydroponics yet. i guess there's a third factor, and that is that i don't really know all the intricacies of hydroponics yet. in a sense, aquaponics is easier in that it really does mimic a natural cycle. and hopefully, in aquaponics, if everything is going right, then you don't have to mess with it much... but i'll gradually try to figure it out.
***
a couple of insights:
1) i sometimes live my life with this sort of gentle pressure. i mean, i have a sense of the goals i want to achieve, but i've learned not to push too hard for any one thing. i guess, in my experience, there is this inevitable push back and accompanying guilt if i try too hard and focus too much on any one thing. life is round, after all. and even with me gently addressing each thing, i neglect so much! but in any case, i had this vision of coal turning into a diamond... or that line from shawshank redemption, something about how all that is needed to change things is pressure and time. yes, with a lot of my goals, i kind of skitter around, seemingly not doing anything much for them, but just sort of touching this or touching that. at times, i surprise myself with the impetus or force with which i do things. but usually, i just walk around the idea of doing something...
why is there this push back? is that what holds me back from being more forceful? am i afraid of making mistakes?
2) i can't really recall the second insight now. but... i guess there is still attachment to the "sumptuousness" of life, of youth. i said before, there is fear of decrepitude, of old age, because from my perspective it just seems like this degeneration, this loss, this emptiness. but maybe it's because i have a mistaken notion of emptiness. i know that when shodo was trying to teach me about the concept of emptiness in buddhism, that that was one of the greatest errors: to think of emptiness in a limited sense, like some sort of void or something. the character for emptiness is the same as that for the sky- which can help you get a sense of what emptiness is really all about- some vast openness that allows for all possibilities. i wish i could glimpse that sky someday. i never managed to realize enlightenment under shodo, and as time passes, i think it is less and less likely that i ever will. i no longer have the discipline to do something like that. life impinges on me all the time, and i am comfortable in my decadence... i don't know.
sometimes i wonder why i do or why i did everything that i do/did. i still hold in my mind this image of some feminine figure, like some sort of angel or something, that looks down upon me and approves of my actions. it's an endearing image. or rather, an enduring image. i'm married and all, but it still stays with me. i'm doing something for approval, and for release. i don't know how else to explain it. i guess that's why i write, as well. to reach some audience, to move them. but it's kind of complicated nowadays, because i question whether the audience even exists. i mean, art is not solipsistic, or it shouldn't be, but it also isn't just a capitulation to the needs and desires of the other. i like to think that it is a flowing out of the author- his or her perspective...
anyway... i don't know what else to really write about.
i wish life made more sense. i wish i were consistent with my thoughts, my feelings. but i guess that's life.
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