can't sleep.

there was a surreal moment, i'm not certain what time it was, but it was dead of the night late, when i definitely heard a whole household break out in laughter somewhere in the neighborhood. i just thought it so odd that a bunch of people would break out in one loud and abrupt peal of laughter so late in the night. i was almost tempted to go and see if it was a real household holding a late party or something...

had strange dreams, and the sensation of things shifting. we have a lot of our windows open, so it is not unusual to feel light winds or temperature drops, but there are times when it seems as though there isn't a legitimate wind per se, and it just gets a bit cool anyway. also, sometimes the clicks that occur in the house when, i suppose, the wood just expands or contracts, sometimes they occur in greater frequency, or even in patterns. at one point, i was drifting in light sleep, and i heard three distinct clicks (almost like someone knocking). when i stirred myself awake, i could hear birds murmuring in sleep nearby (there is always a particular bird stirring in our bottle-brush tree). as i tried to fall back asleep, i heard some bag shift, again with three distinct sounds.

in the yard, or out in back, on occasion, i hear a crisp stirring in the grass. i strain my ears to hear more sounds. there is an odd "clip-clopping" and an "eating" sound that accompanies pigs. cats are, generally, a bit stealthier and silent. i rise to the window to search out shapes in the darkness. tonight, i haven't been successful in seeing anything.

i went to my son's room to meditate. i often wander into his room when i am restless. a lot of the time, i find him tossing and turning in his sleep. i wish i could enter his dreams and help him with whatever problems he might be having there. i wish i could make his dreams peaceful and happy...

***

my own dreams, now fading... something about a tenrikyo party. oh, and yes. something about how i had to go home alone in my car from a party held somewhere in the countryside, but also at a house near renton road (in dream geography, a place can actually be a composite of several "real places," occupying two regions at once). i was driving on a road through sugar cane (which no longer exists out in the ewa side), and started to come upon little statues of odd little men. i realized that these were "kagutaba" (after a disturbing japanese film, "noroi," that i happened to come across in youtube). when i came upon the turn to the next town, i saw a huge kagutaba statue. i thought it strange how something so horrible was being used as a tourist marker.

i recall having a thought about out of the way towns, near the sunset. wondering how they could appear so forlorn, and yet how each place was also, to those who lived there, a warm and welcoming home. i thought about how the places that seemed so dead and forgotten could also come alive and be filled with residents rejoicing and "hanging out," how a nothing place could turn into something close to heavenly.

but then i thought about how nobody celebrates in the dead of night. other things wander the earth when most eyes are closed in sleep and dreams...

for some reason, as i mentioned, there was this tenrikyo party. it was held at a mansion. the only thing i recall about the layout of the mansion was that we were either in the basement or the first floor, a very spacious deal, done up in a very homey style. to me, it resembled a vast dorm common room, where people (i pictured college age, all reproductively viable and active) would come down from studying to just hang out. anyway, there were supposed to be stairs leading up to the ground floor/second floor. there were stairs, but for some reason, i couldn't find the appropriate stairs. some were tiny spiral staircases, so narrow that one had to practically contort one's body to enter a tiny manhole into the room above. it seemed as though these were like "crow's nest" rooms, designed for one person (i recall having an aside thought about how such rooms were probably fire code violations). another staircase turned at such strange angles that, again, one would have to violently contort in order to fit through the passage...

(i'm thinking these staircases could have been an artifact from watching that disturbing "noroi" video: one individual in that film died when he stuffed himself and got stuck in a ventilation shaft).

i recall seeing this guy koji whom i knew briefly when i was in japan, and in los angeles. apparently, in my dream, he was head of the young men's association (or whatever), and they were going to start their meeting. even though i had known him in the past, he didn't really acknowledge my presence. not a big deal, really, as i am not/was not really a figure of note...

and that's that, i suppose. a convoluted tangle of a dream, signifying nothing in particular, and leaving me with a vague feeling of dissatisfaction and overall dread.

***

it is raining quite heavily now. in some ways, i love the rain because it is very egalitarian. it falls down on everything equally, like a curtain. in this, it probably unites the world, and gives peace to it. at least, that's my aesthetic impression of the rain, sitting here in this pitch black room in doors...

it beats the silence, anyway.

***

it's a difficult transitional time for me, i suppose. i graduated from uh, but my job prospects seem very uncertain. i have interviewed at five schools so far. i was offered a job at one, but turned it down (perhaps foolishly), because it appeared to be a bit out of my league, and i was counting on the other four (which were more my field). got turned down by another. there are three prospects left. my mother pointed out that, in an article in the newspaper, due to budget concerns, several positions are to be cut, many of them in sped. i wonder if the positions i interviewed for still exist...

well, that just means that i have to continue to work hard on my patient load. possible, doable. i've actually been thinking more about adjuncts, like craniosacral therapy (partially in relation to, ironically, learning disabilities, notably the tie between sphenobasilar joint dysfunctions and certain forms of dyslexia). not that i'm sure it works, or anything, but it is very noninvasive, and at the least, it is a calming method that can accompany a lot of acupuncture treatments. i've also been practicing more body-reading, to better address some of the global aspects and problems of posture... all of this in my own pedantic way.

this afternoon, i worked pretty hard on the "planter box" on the left side of our house. i have been wanting to plant something there, if only to keep the weeds from setting in. i worked hard to clear a section of weeds, broke the hard soil, mixed in some compost. i drew a sketchy plan using different varieties of portulaca and two types of alyssum, and planted two of the portulaca that i bought this morning. i hope that the plants will start to take, and grow well in their new home...

a brief reflection occured to me as i worked the planter box. it is not enough to remove weeds and clear ground. if you want to claim ground, you must plant something new in its place. if you don't, weeds will set in immediately after. what was that saying? from where? "nature abhors a vacuum." it is true. i was thinking of this with regards to working with children in education. it is not enough to "remove weeds" via corrective statements, etc. you also have to fill them up with something good, i.e. things to support their self-esteem. if you don't "follow through" on this next step, then the weeds will only set in once again...

***

well, i'm going to reattempt sleep. hopefully, i'll have no more disturbing dreams (and neither will my son).

tomorrow is another day.

it is a hard thing to be five years old.

it is particularly hard when you have a father who is ostensibly loving, but who shows his love through an unpredictable alternation of doting and cruelty...

***

i love my son deeply. but the love of a father for a son is, by necessity, complex. it is important for a boy, even a very young boy, to learn how to be independent and tough. i say this not only because there are benefits in and of themselves to these qualities, but more because it is the social expectation that boys should be independent and tough early on. if they are not, then they face a very difficult road ahead.

i should know, because i was not particularly tough, and i earned the disgust of many, and multiplied it in my own self-perceptions as if to show the world that i could hate myself far better and with more vicious subtlety than anyone else could. it is the demon that i created, as an abreaction (or perhaps my one act of competitiveness?) to the repugnance people felt in my presence as a child. and it is this demon that i hope my own son will avoid.

i tell and show my son that i love him, and am very proud of him. i am, truly. he is by nature very kind and gentle. he never treats people unfairly, or looks down upon anyone. he never intentionally hurts anyone. many of his peers have already "developed" to the point where they make distinctions and judgments about people, and choose those who are "worthy of attention" and consciously ignore or insult those who are not. i am proud that my son remains "naive" and undeveloped in this regard. if it is a sign of immaturity that he remains this way, then so be it.

even at five years old, many children will refuse to listen to a boy who is not as articulate as they are. even at five years old, many children will "know" who stands out, and laugh. this is perfectly understandable, as their adult models do it all the time, and probably even urge their children to be this way. competition is inbred, and in the blood from a very early age. we all want the best for our kids, don't we?

sometimes i think that you have to be born with a gentle soul to appreciate and remain gentle, despite all the conditioning of our modern-day competitive environment. sometimes i think that you have to already know, deep down in your bones, that the competitive way of the world is not the true or only way of the world, that it is possible (and wonderful) to find friends anywhere and everywhere, and not just in some vaunted "in crowd." sometimes i think that you have to already be born with a heart that knows this freedom and simplicity, to walk the world without carrying so many judgments.

i think i knew this once as strongly as my son (fragile though he is) knows it. i think i, at one point, truly believed it, and held it as the only truth of the world. i think it is this that allows me to relate to children and animals so easily (they are far less judgmental about the universe). but i also think that time and experience have conditioned me, and made me, at the same time, bitter and cynical about the meanness of people. this, even after i've come to realize that "mean people" are hardly to blame, that there are compulsions and "necessities" to be that way...

i want to find a way for my son to retain this gentle heart, even as the world ignores or insults him. i want to teach him how to be "tough," so that the world does not hurt him. i want him to respect himself, to see his gentleness as a special strength, and not as a weakness or liability (as the world would have him think). but it is a hard thing to do...

***

well, enough negative ruminations... last night, we performed in ryusei taiko's biannual recital. it was an awesome experience. willow and aiden did a great job. i had to tell myself (and them) that they managed to perform on a stage under bright lights before 500 or so people at five and seven years old. me at that age? i could never have done what they'd done, and with such composure. very very proud.

i got to play in "kaizen" and "iwai." with regards to "iwai," i think i did well. however, there is a tendency for me to "space out" when i am confronting the fear and nervousness (the "reality") of performing before a live audience. it just feels like a part of myself tunes out, kinda like a lesser form of an out-of-body experience. perhaps it is a defense mechanism to prevent myself from getting overwhelmed with nervousness; problem is that it also makes me prone to losing focus and "spirit." i did manage to kinda get back into gear, cheering on my classmates, and pushing all i had into my solo (which i did well on, even if i didn't stick my landing).

taiko is so-o-o great. i'm so happy my kids have had the rare opportunity to join a taiko group at so young an age. it's all about spirit and expression, as well as keeping in time with your group (teamwork, camaraderie, or something in between); things that i wish i had experienced when i was young...

***

well, it's getting late. i've got treatments and a class to teach tomorrow. tonight i will sit with my son as he sleeps, watching over him, and cradling his head, to feel the unwinding of his sphenoid as he dreams deep and fathomless dreams... and perhaps my hands will keep all of his dreams from turning sour and sad. i would keep all of his tears and all of his demons for myself...

seventeen,
if you find me again at forty
don't be so quick to judge me
give me the benefit of the doubt.
behind the practiced expressions
are a few that are still raw and true
and from the detritus of old phrases,
i've strung together odd words
into something that you might still find cool.

seventeen,
so selfish without knowing it,
don't horde all the promises and verve
save a little for me
you'll never know when you'll need a hope
to pull you from the rut of your own
footsteps.

seventeen and forty
may not seem to have a thing in common
but a thread runs constant
through changing tapestries.
forty knows it well:
tethered to memory.

seventeen,
so arrogant
and clean

at the moment, it is 3 am and raining quite steadily. i've awoken, carrying remnants of a dream of an aquarium of monstrosities, impossible sea creatures, in my head, and the song "speed of sound" (coldplay) playing in a nauseatingly stuck soundtrack.

there is a feeling of sadness and frustration hanging within me.

freud once said that there are only two things that can cure a patient: love and work. i think this is true. love is a source and an end; it is the yin aspect of everything that i do, the "cellular bath" that nourishes and sustains me. work is the alignment with the principles of efficacy and worth; it is the yang aspect, and the ability to stand upright and (literally) "make a difference."

***

there are many symptoms, shifting and disguising themselves repeatedly, but there is a commonality to them, recognizable only over time. for myself, there has always been the positing of a hidden figure sabotaging the clear way before me, a "secret and self-directed hatred" that has continually baffled and confounded me. to know that it originates from within me is little consolation or cure, just as knowing that lupus is an autoimmune condition does not help patients live with the pain of their disease. i have fought this shadow in a myriad of ways, but usually through my innate skills at sleight of hand, concealment and distraction. if i am a blocked river, i have always found other ways to flow.

but it is only a matter of time before those waters turn dark and muddy, heavy with the accretions of their frustrated passage. it is always only a matter of time before the shadow returns...

***

the one redeeming factor of possessing an irrational and relentless disease is that it gives a person extra pause before judging others. no, the world is not always the logical place it pretends to be, and quite often, there are eddies and currents that blur circumstances and make everything "not make sense." i know this to be true.

sometimes, it is not our place to judge or solve the world. sometimes the best thing we can do is to meet people where they are, and simply abide with them.

sometimes the best thing, the only thing, we can do is find the point of resistance and stay there.

and wait.

***

i encountered these words of advice somewhere: "try your best, and when you don't know what to do, ask god and the spirits for help. when you still don't know what to do, have a cup of tea."

alternatively: "we do our best work. then we sit back and wait."

as i was working on a patient, i thought of my role as a teacher and as a "healer." i thought, actually, about my role as a participant in my world...

when i work on soft tissue, there is a point of resistance beyond which it becomes intrusive and invasive to proceed. my job as a "healer" or bodyworker is to approach that point of resistance in as inobtrusive a manner as possible, and just "stay there," and wait for something to happen. yes, there is some degree of intention on my part, because oftentimes i have to move things in certain directions; but the greater part of what i do is what i DON'T do. a greater part of what i do is simply meeting the patient at the point of resistance and doing nothing.

i thought about this with regards to teaching as well. the ideal teacher (which, i realize, i am not, although i strive for this) strives to meet the student where he or she is at (the point of resistance). this place of meeting is articulated in a variety of ways, depending upon theoretical orientation... for example, there is vygotsky's zone of proximity (i think that's what he called it)... and in early childhood educational theory, there is talk about "entering the child's world, in order to interact through it." one might also talk about formative assessment in this regard. the point is that the teacher has to first approach and "know" the student well. this initial approach and understanding of the student is itself "therapeutic" if done properly, because it initiates in the student a feeling of trust and "being known and understood."

the crux and debate of teaching comes when we consider what to do when we meet the student at the point of resistance, and when (or how quickly) to do it. if we are particularly forceful, then we assert our agenda; if we are more aligned with the constructivist orientation, then we only provide minimal guidance, and allow education to take place in its truest sense ("educate" comes from a latin root meaning "to draw out")... i believe it depends on what you are trying to teach, and to whom. younger children require order and structure with regards to instruction in the basics of reading and math. at the same time, they should be given the opportunity to "play," preferably with "toys" that allow them to discover the world. older students, on the other hand, refuse to be "told what to do," and unless they evince or demonstrate a passion for an art to the same degree as the teacher, then it makes little sense to try to "impose" instruction upon them.

in honor of father's day...

i am reposting (or, rather, posting links to) a few of the entries that i think best capture some of my thoughts/feelings on fatherhood...

first is "sudoku," a short story in nine segments that was supposed to say something about fatherhood, but (or and?) ended up being about memory and regret and parallel lines and stuff...

http://marsilani.blogspot.com/2008/01/short-story-sudoku_6841.html

next is "bumper car boy," a spontaneously written poem about my feelings regarding my son... something about holding him back and protecting him versus letting him be...

http://marsilani.blogspot.com/2010/02/bumper-car-boy.html

third is "willow weep for me: transplant/transparent," which is actually more about the general theme of new parenthood (the anxieties and hopes), and the ambiguous process of "duty to ancestors" (there's a dirty play on words there...):

http://marsilani.blogspot.com/2008/01/short-story-willow-weep-for-me-side_5886.html

and finally, perhaps the first written thing in this whole lot, a poem called "the one that got away" which takes a somewhat negative view on the absence/distance of fathers:

http://marsilani.blogspot.com/2007/12/poem-one-that-got-away_2022.html

SO HAPPY PAPPY's DAY!!!

shaky videos of minneapolis trip

at fort worth airport during stopover.



at dunwoody institute of technology, on a cold morning prior to taking my praxis tests... went to the basilica in this video. lot of boring walking.



still prior to taking praxis tests. went across the street from dunwoody to sculpture garden (walker art center). cute rabbit at the end.



again, at walker art center, this time with lynn. at a field next to the walker art center were free lessons in how to crack a bullwhip...



a driving tour by wayne takeshita through st. paul...