here's a quote i stole from kendall's facebook profile:
"continue to doubt, because there is much more power in doubt than in belief. when you believe, you stop seeking the truth. truth is what works, and you'll find out what works through direct experience. then it is no longer a belief, but a reality." --dick sutphen
in zen there are three necessary qualities: great devotion, great faith... and great doubt. some might consider it odd that great faith AND great doubt are both necessary. but they are. the great doubt led gautama buddha to the realization of the first truth (existence is suffering). the great faith is what affirms the buddhist faith as a path to salvation (the fourth noble truth: that there is a path to the cessation of suffering)...
in fact, the process of meditation can be seen as a rarefication or purification (although it would never be couched in those terms) of the mind through faith IN THE PROCESS of zazen, and through radical, unrelenting doubt in the mind-forms that "claim reality."
Saturday, August 30, 2008
etymology of "nostalgia"
nostalgia
1770, "severe homesickness" (considered as a disease), Mod.L. (cf. Fr. nostalgie, 1802), coined 1668 by Johannes Hofer as a rendering of Ger. heimweh, from Gk. nostos "homecoming" + algos "pain, grief, distress." Transferred sense (the main modern one) of "wistful yearning for the past" first recorded 1920.
1770, "severe homesickness" (considered as a disease), Mod.L. (cf. Fr. nostalgie, 1802), coined 1668 by Johannes Hofer as a rendering of Ger. heimweh, from Gk. nostos "homecoming" + algos "pain, grief, distress." Transferred sense (the main modern one) of "wistful yearning for the past" first recorded 1920.
swift disintegration: mushrooms
in our yard, near the first podicarpus tree that grows, spiraling artifically around a bamboo stake, near the roots of that tree, one day there appeared a white lump. and then, five days later, that lump became ten large blooming mushrooms. by the sixth day, the umbrellae (plural?) of the mushrooms were opening upwards, fully exposing the fluting spores on the undersides. the pressure of the expansion out and up had torn the "heads" of the mushrooms; jagged gaps.
it was a spectacle for the kids. we didn't touch them for fear that we would damage their quick progression to their ends. i seriously entertained thoughts of sneaking out one night and using food coloring to turn them into super mario mushrooms or something. a surprise for willow and aiden in the morning. but the weather's been crappy for such an enterprise (but perhaps perfect for the mushrooms): very rainy.
where do mushrooms come from, anyway? sure, from spores. but where do the spores come from? were they latent in the soil, and just waiting for the right conditions? a generous soaking? or did they somehow alight from a distance, perhaps even from outer space (yeah, i know, cooky science fiction bs: body snatcher paranoia). maybe martian spores floated across the distance of space after having been ejected a millenia ago; and only now they had infected a cloud, and from there, infected my front yard...
they grow so fast. at odd moments, when i stare at them, i can almost see them expanding. so these were what mushroom clouds got their names from, these rising, spreading things...
... i'm feeling fungal nowadays... we connote "fungus" with decay, appropriately so. but although we usually think of decay as some slow process, our front yard mushrooms demonstrate that "fungus" is anything but slow. like a mushroom cloud. boom flash gone.
the suddenness of my appreciation of the dreariness of my life (not that it is dreary, but somehow my taste buds go bland, my eyes feel like they've got condensation and sleep sand in them)... it is like these mushroom clouds blooming in my yard... near dozen of them all waiting to pop their quick disintegrating destruction within my soul...
god, give me inspiration, integration, something to save me from the fallout...
it was a spectacle for the kids. we didn't touch them for fear that we would damage their quick progression to their ends. i seriously entertained thoughts of sneaking out one night and using food coloring to turn them into super mario mushrooms or something. a surprise for willow and aiden in the morning. but the weather's been crappy for such an enterprise (but perhaps perfect for the mushrooms): very rainy.
where do mushrooms come from, anyway? sure, from spores. but where do the spores come from? were they latent in the soil, and just waiting for the right conditions? a generous soaking? or did they somehow alight from a distance, perhaps even from outer space (yeah, i know, cooky science fiction bs: body snatcher paranoia). maybe martian spores floated across the distance of space after having been ejected a millenia ago; and only now they had infected a cloud, and from there, infected my front yard...
they grow so fast. at odd moments, when i stare at them, i can almost see them expanding. so these were what mushroom clouds got their names from, these rising, spreading things...
... i'm feeling fungal nowadays... we connote "fungus" with decay, appropriately so. but although we usually think of decay as some slow process, our front yard mushrooms demonstrate that "fungus" is anything but slow. like a mushroom cloud. boom flash gone.
the suddenness of my appreciation of the dreariness of my life (not that it is dreary, but somehow my taste buds go bland, my eyes feel like they've got condensation and sleep sand in them)... it is like these mushroom clouds blooming in my yard... near dozen of them all waiting to pop their quick disintegrating destruction within my soul...
god, give me inspiration, integration, something to save me from the fallout...
dream
last night i dreamed that she filled the stockings like a christmas surprise. and, naughty though i may have been, i got to empty them and play with the contents until i was bored and exhausted, mostly the former...
then, she walked away from me at a party, wearing those same stockings. something i had said, or done, or neglected to say or do... one never knows with dream women. and the crowds kept interceding like clouds, drenching me in irrelevant conversations, pulling me away from her trail. the stairs, the bedroom door, an open window, gone. she was...
then, she walked away from me at a party, wearing those same stockings. something i had said, or done, or neglected to say or do... one never knows with dream women. and the crowds kept interceding like clouds, drenching me in irrelevant conversations, pulling me away from her trail. the stairs, the bedroom door, an open window, gone. she was...
Friday, August 29, 2008
strangers bearing gifts
walk with me a while
long enough to rattle out
a dagger or two from within
the ready sleeve
the one with the embroidered
heart.
talk to me of the miles
you walked alone
and how it was that we
strayed, and met again.
pretend for awkward moments
the time and distance was sewn up
with a stitch.
wonderful stranger
i recognized you from afar
but up close i see
the footsteps of crows
beside your eyes
and the ready trenches
that fold your grin.
are they fault lines
ready to betray calamity?
i will leave you tonight
hopefully a survivor
nostalgic and forgetful,
having buried again
something long ago dead
once upon a time.
long enough to rattle out
a dagger or two from within
the ready sleeve
the one with the embroidered
heart.
talk to me of the miles
you walked alone
and how it was that we
strayed, and met again.
pretend for awkward moments
the time and distance was sewn up
with a stitch.
wonderful stranger
i recognized you from afar
but up close i see
the footsteps of crows
beside your eyes
and the ready trenches
that fold your grin.
are they fault lines
ready to betray calamity?
i will leave you tonight
hopefully a survivor
nostalgic and forgetful,
having buried again
something long ago dead
once upon a time.
or gone...
all my friends, the place i call home
they are all either here
or gone.
this morning, my friend kendall, perhaps my oldest friend, whom i only recently got in touch with (via facebook) will be leaving hawaii (perhaps, and perhaps hopefully [for him] for good) to live in oregon (so sorry for the above pun).
i had dinner with kendall, his roommate josh, kendall's mother, and her husband last night. i met them at longhi's, then we went over to ryan's at ward. it was nice, it felt very comfortable... discussions on parenting, bodywork (both josh and ruth's husband are massage therapists)...
at one point, the question came up: why, after all these years, were we still friends? it was an interesting question, one which i have considered, not only with regards to kendall, but with all of my "friends." while it may not be universally true, i think that most of my friends have been somewhat outsiders. i dare say that none of them were in the "in crowd." (i may be wrong; apparently, a few friends have "friends" in the multiple hundreds) perhaps that in itself is a similarity that binds us. in chemistry, non-polar molecules may not exactly "want" to bind together, but they do when placed in polar solutions (like water). it's because they have more in common with each other than with the molecules in their environment...
at many times in my life (and occasionally even now), i felt resentment towards those who were "too comfortable" with fitting in, who had it so easy. of course, i realize now that it is never easy, and the hypocrisies and contradictions actually strike us all (although it may be hidden, unconscious). and, of course, i am a parent, and it is my natural desire to want my child to have it "comfortable" and "easy." no parent intentionally wants to raise a social misfit or outcast... but yes, i felt resentment (quiet, at times seething) towards the "in crowd." perhaps not as people, but because of their "Venn Diagram" strategies, the way they would draw clear lines around people, grouping them, singling them out, and (all sympathy or empathy ignored) insulting them. EVERYONE is a loser in some respect. but there are those who "externalize," and feel no contradiction in patiently pointing out the faults of those around them... hell, forget "faults," they just outright put people down...
being an outcast gives you the "privileged" position of understanding how hurtful and hypocritical such "strategies" are. on the plus side, being an outcast also somewhat frees you from the mass hypnosis of the general cultural milieu...
reminds me of a thought i had:
"the lesson of the game is not necessarily to teach you how to win; it is to teach you that it is a game. it is all just a game."
i suppose this thought summarizes some of my understanding of "society." it is, ultimately, just a game. that's not to say that it isn't "necessary." but taking it seriously (the way a lot of people are SO status conscious, etc.) is like watching a kid (i've seen adults do this too) smash and scatter a chess board because he is losing. "it's just a game."
zen parlance speaks of absolute understanding (the true nature of reality, which is emptiness), and the relative understanding (the conventions of the world). it is never that one supplants the other. this is especially so pedagogically; if a person is so-called "enlightened," then how is he going to communicate this understanding EXCEPT by accepting the relative conventions of those he attempts to reach? jesus used parables, in part because, well, how else was he going to reach the minds/hearts/souls of fallen mortal men? the truth is inexpressible. so we "write fictions" to point to it...
yeah, i'm rambling, drifting off on tangents... but to get back to kendall. and friends. i've had, i realize, so few friends in my life. i've never sought people out to be my friends. even at my most desperate, i usually just disintegrated in my own "aloneness" rather than search for people (a paradox, you've probably experienced this... when you are most desperate and alone, that is precisely when no one would want to be around you anyway... at least the majority of fair-weather friends suddenly don't even know you... so.). it was always a mystery how and why people would consider me a friend. but at my point in life, i'm realizing how important some of them were. i only touch a few lives... i must reach back to them, to understand myself, and perhaps, to help them understand themselves.
"are you my friend?"
...well, best wishes to kendall in oregon. i'm thankful i got the brief opportunity to speak to him in person before he disappeared into the distance once again.
friendship is either here
or gone...
they are all either here
or gone.
this morning, my friend kendall, perhaps my oldest friend, whom i only recently got in touch with (via facebook) will be leaving hawaii (perhaps, and perhaps hopefully [for him] for good) to live in oregon (so sorry for the above pun).
i had dinner with kendall, his roommate josh, kendall's mother, and her husband last night. i met them at longhi's, then we went over to ryan's at ward. it was nice, it felt very comfortable... discussions on parenting, bodywork (both josh and ruth's husband are massage therapists)...
at one point, the question came up: why, after all these years, were we still friends? it was an interesting question, one which i have considered, not only with regards to kendall, but with all of my "friends." while it may not be universally true, i think that most of my friends have been somewhat outsiders. i dare say that none of them were in the "in crowd." (i may be wrong; apparently, a few friends have "friends" in the multiple hundreds) perhaps that in itself is a similarity that binds us. in chemistry, non-polar molecules may not exactly "want" to bind together, but they do when placed in polar solutions (like water). it's because they have more in common with each other than with the molecules in their environment...
at many times in my life (and occasionally even now), i felt resentment towards those who were "too comfortable" with fitting in, who had it so easy. of course, i realize now that it is never easy, and the hypocrisies and contradictions actually strike us all (although it may be hidden, unconscious). and, of course, i am a parent, and it is my natural desire to want my child to have it "comfortable" and "easy." no parent intentionally wants to raise a social misfit or outcast... but yes, i felt resentment (quiet, at times seething) towards the "in crowd." perhaps not as people, but because of their "Venn Diagram" strategies, the way they would draw clear lines around people, grouping them, singling them out, and (all sympathy or empathy ignored) insulting them. EVERYONE is a loser in some respect. but there are those who "externalize," and feel no contradiction in patiently pointing out the faults of those around them... hell, forget "faults," they just outright put people down...
being an outcast gives you the "privileged" position of understanding how hurtful and hypocritical such "strategies" are. on the plus side, being an outcast also somewhat frees you from the mass hypnosis of the general cultural milieu...
reminds me of a thought i had:
"the lesson of the game is not necessarily to teach you how to win; it is to teach you that it is a game. it is all just a game."
i suppose this thought summarizes some of my understanding of "society." it is, ultimately, just a game. that's not to say that it isn't "necessary." but taking it seriously (the way a lot of people are SO status conscious, etc.) is like watching a kid (i've seen adults do this too) smash and scatter a chess board because he is losing. "it's just a game."
zen parlance speaks of absolute understanding (the true nature of reality, which is emptiness), and the relative understanding (the conventions of the world). it is never that one supplants the other. this is especially so pedagogically; if a person is so-called "enlightened," then how is he going to communicate this understanding EXCEPT by accepting the relative conventions of those he attempts to reach? jesus used parables, in part because, well, how else was he going to reach the minds/hearts/souls of fallen mortal men? the truth is inexpressible. so we "write fictions" to point to it...
yeah, i'm rambling, drifting off on tangents... but to get back to kendall. and friends. i've had, i realize, so few friends in my life. i've never sought people out to be my friends. even at my most desperate, i usually just disintegrated in my own "aloneness" rather than search for people (a paradox, you've probably experienced this... when you are most desperate and alone, that is precisely when no one would want to be around you anyway... at least the majority of fair-weather friends suddenly don't even know you... so.). it was always a mystery how and why people would consider me a friend. but at my point in life, i'm realizing how important some of them were. i only touch a few lives... i must reach back to them, to understand myself, and perhaps, to help them understand themselves.
"are you my friend?"
...well, best wishes to kendall in oregon. i'm thankful i got the brief opportunity to speak to him in person before he disappeared into the distance once again.
friendship is either here
or gone...
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