dream, 5/18/2021

i remember walking around with this huge backpack. and these two kids asked for something back, something i carried in the backpack for a long time. and i remember them going in and taking them, two dolls. the kids were siblings, and they missed their dolls, the ones i had been carrying for an inordinately long time. i recall that the bag seemed cavernous as i looked into it. i saw other dolls, other things. and scraps of paper, some with writing like "free william faulkner" from a student that i doubted had ever read faulkner. also, a room, a library, with walls of glass, and very colorful art projects, one in all yellow and green... there seemed a purpose to my journey, but then again, it seemed like i was just looking... can't recall other parts of the dream at the moment...

i've been inordinately tired. like super tired. i think this whole graduation thing (my daughter just graduated from high school) is really bearing down on me... well, there are so many other things. thinking about how to pay for college. my mother's amnesia.

dream 5/13/2021

so some time has passed, and i can't remember all the details of the dream... i remember driving out of the garage at my home when i was in high school, the two story one in the middle of the culdesac. i wasn't quite in control of the car, maybe was reaching for something behind me as i reversed, so at the last moment, i flipped the gear to park just so that it wouldn't run into anything else... there was another car at one point, and we (there were others in the car too) had to wait... and then it was again a rolicking ride out of the culdesac and into the looping block...

at some point, i got out. i was driving some sort of mini-scooter, motorized. i was taking these obscure back pathways around the block, behind people's lots. there was actually one point where the ground dropped sharply away, next to this fence, and i had to get off the scooter and sort of walk things down to get to the other side... anyway, i managed to complete the block on the scooter. it actually took my out of the way of where i needed to be... and i realized that i would have to run my way (?) back to where the car was, so i could continue to drive to work...

oh yes. in the background was this sneaking suspicion (?) that i was late for work. so all the while that i was scootering around this block, i was thinking about what was going on in the classroom... people were trying to operate things without me... it was now one hour late, and i hadn't contacted anyone to let them know what was going on... just general anxiety about stuff... so i suppose that's why i HAD to run once i completed the block (again, not sure where that scooter thing went)...

and that's it. boring.

preliminary thoughts, mother's day; 5/9/2021

 my grandma mitakara always spoke of innen, roughly translated as "causality." it was an idea, common to buddhism, of the ways in which past actions (sometimes even in past lives) shaped the present. there was this notion that patterns repeated, sometimes across generations, due to some unacknowledged or unaddressed causal factors...

it's funny, but in 2009, after my grandmother's funeral, and before the epic falling out i had with my brother, i had concerns about what my grandmother's death would do to our family. it was she that tied us all together. before her death, we would have get-togethers every now and again at the ewa beach house...

it was common knowledge that my mother didn't get along all that well with her siblings, my aunty kiyomi and uncle masao- all the more reason why those occasional get-togethers were so vital. so i guess in 2009, a bit after the funeral, i had written a message to my then fb friend brother and my cousin about this, suggesting that we, as the grandchildren, make an effort to have our parents (and uncle masao) get together periodically to continue the tradition and wishes of my grandmother; perhaps hosting some informal lunch or something... i had even thrown out suggestions for rules of engagement, just in case things got out of hand... the message was dated 7/9/2009.

it's now 2021, and i suppose our efforts failed. to be honest, i can't even recall that effort, or even that i had that idea. the irony was that i had this inkling to contact my brother via facebook, just to send him a message (but of course, i can't, as apparently, i have been blocked from messaging his personal account; i can only send messages to his "professional persona," which would likely be monitored by people other than himself). the reason, i suppose, was that i felt a lot of things were coming to a head. my daughter's graduating next week (not that he or his family were expected to celebrate that)... but more than that, is the fact that tomorrow (today) is mother's day.

my mother, i fear, is developing dementia. it's not unexpected, i know, for people her age. but i suppose it's ominous and sad because she is such an involved person, involved in the sense of always extending both invisible and tangible lines of support to all corners of the world (and, of course, our family)... my mother has always been someone who only offered the bright and generous side of herself to the world. it is only in off moments that she discloses (beside herself) the things that sadden or concern her... the dementia, i suppose, betrays the secret rifts in her heart.

today being mother's day, i know that one of those rifts were those severing my brother, sister, and i. i know that one of her wishes was to have all of us kids together under the same roof, sharing a meal.

5/8/2021

yes, it has been over a week since i last posted. again, a lot has been going on. i started teaching a new course at the acupuncture school, on therapeutic ethics. i had to prepare for the class, and actually am still working on it to make it the best that i can. i had to change a lot of the prepared statements from a previous instructor, because he spoke a lot about "spirituality" and "religion," which i feel are precisely the worst things to talk about in a class about ethics. i think, first of all, that one of the biggest dangers or downfalls of a professional of any sort is to think you are an expert in any and all things, and i think once you start straying into "spiritual" guru-hood, you are asking for trouble. i believe that professionals should be humble. they have a specific expertise, and they can be masters in that field, and can provide advice, etc. related to that; but once you start going outside of that, and speaking to people about problems or issues which you could not possibly understand intimately... well. that's how ethical boundaries are broken.

just my opinion, of course.

it's not that, personally, you can align what you do with your spirituality. it's that i feel that should be a private matter. if it makes your actions resonant with your personal beliefs, then fine. do that, believe that. i think the trouble lies in claiming some sort of superiority to your clientelle in those fields. and as "spirituality" nowadays tends to have this all-encompassing reach... again, i feel like i'm just recycling my argument. it's dangerous.

i'm preferring to make the class as open-ended and ambiguous as possible. i'm trying not to make my own personal viewpoint authoritative. i DO intend to share the codified ethics of various organizations and levels within our profession, just so that students know what the legal stance is, regardless of their personal morality or communal ethics...

*****

school is slowly winding down. i think the kids feel it. they're certainly acting like it...

i may have mentioned but my daughter is going to attend berkeley, which has a $60,000 a year estimated price tag for out of state students... there are no grants for out of state students, which means that we would have to depend upon loans. needless to say, i'd rather not do that. of course, she's attending at the worst time for us, financially. i may have mentioned my wife lost her job of 20 years due to the pandemic. she's been trying to find new employment, but it hasn't been easy. meanwhile, with my state job, and its crappy union benefits, i've had to foot the bill for our family's health insurance, which is exorbitantly expensive... for teachers in our state, paid pretty much last place when cost of living is taken into account... for these teachers to be forced to take such a huge cut out of that shit that they pay us, just for basic medical insurance... it's an insult. and now, our family is reduced to one fourth of what our income used to be... and being held to pay for my daughter's college at the same time.

so again, that's why i'm working a bit more classes at the acupuncture school... i have these stupid ideas of finishing my book and trying to sell it. but i think most people buying it would be doing so out of pity. i've realized long ago that no one really wants to read my stupid stories, and as i age, i have less compulsion to tell them, and less memory to find them... so... it would be nice if our financial situation pushed me to write a masterpiece, but i guess you can't force a cannonball out of a pistol... just doesn't work that way.

*****

i get inspired at times... i think i'm inspired, for a time, whenever i listen to salman rushdie. i really like the guy... a very knowledgeable and patient instructor, frank... but when i run up against myself... against the dead weight that is me... it gets very frustrating.

*****

i listened to some electronic music from french??? they had this song called "hometown." the video just sort of tells the story of 4 separate strangers who each encounter some sort of phenomenon that they cannot explain, a "signal," i guess, and they each get inspired in different ways... i was thinking of utilizing that "feeling," the feeling of seeing something you can't explain, in the next story, on "kipapa." seeing the night marchers... usually we connote it with horror, because that is what you are supposed to feel when seeing those macabre lines of torches... but perhaps it could also connote a sense of wonder. and maybe a feeling of commonality with those isolated few who happen to see it too. you belong to a sort of club... and the idea of having it inspire people to attempt to capture that signal again... the idea that life is empty and meaningless after having seen something wonderful and terrifying like that... i would like to convey that somehow...

4/28/2021

it has been a week or so... time is seeming to drag.

there are anxieties about a lot of things... our ability to pay for my daughter's college (she made it into berkeley), particularly as i must now foot the bill for our exorbitant health insurance costs, as my wife lost her job... she's now working for a different company, but she's experiencing a lot of stress and anxiety at it, because there are a lot of new things, and the pace is much faster... i'm trying to take on a few more classes at the acupuncture school, and they are on subjects that i'm not necessarily an expert on. i'm also more pressured to finish my writing, and offer it up for sale, probably on a pity-basis (i'm using this to help fund for my daughter's education)... probably need to look for a second or third job as well.

in the midst of all this, it's hard to keep my routines. it's hard to have the peace of mind to decide to pursue these things. i guess it's just sheer compulsion that keeps me going, that makes me do these things, even as their point becomes questioned by the events taking place...

*****

i struggled to write my four pages this week. i've been writing the "tales" told by different kappa, each with a name + less, like "sightless" or "heedless." this past week, i wrote about the tale told by "heedless," about how i basically stole and lied my way into a position of recognition, and later about how my artistic "style" developed through errors i had made. i think that last point, about the nature of creativity as a blurring over of clear mistakes, i think that certainly continues to be relevant.

*****

well, gotta get back to work.

*****

i hate being a hardass...

at times, i can see the way people are, and the collisions that are inevitably going to happen. and i try to talk to both people, and warn them about what's going to happen. but it's like they're already primed for what's about to happen, and all my talk is futile, like trying to hold incredibly strong magnets apart from each other. sometimes i come out hard against one side because i can see it as "the problem," but then afterwards, i regret speaking so harshly, and have to do some damage control... i know all this must sound obscure and mysterious, but it is all part of the daily life of a teacher... i intend the best for my students, and when i must be cruel, i must always be careful to communicate that i care about them as well.

i'm so tired, though.

i wish... they could see the future as clearly as i do... the challenges they will face. then they would understand why i urge them to do certain things, or be a certain way. why must it be that people only learn their lessons accompanied with the bitter taste of regret?

dream 4/21/2021

moments in the dream: i recall little things, fragments. like how there had been a problem with my family, and then i found a note put up by my college friend daniel; he had actually snuck into our house, and put up a note close to where i slept on the couch... i didn't fully read it, i just noted the neat handwriting, and the emphasis of certain words... and i felt at once happy that he had cared enough to do this (haven't heard from him in many many years) and embarrassed that he had broken into the house and seen it...

i know we were somewhere meeting about something... but the part i really remember was walking with this group of people across a field... no, we were outside of this building, walking in the parking lot, and to the right of us was this large field. normally, it was completely empty, but on this day, it was filled with people: a soccer game for kids was going on, and aside from the field being full of kids and refs, the borders of the field were filled with families cheering... and we commented on how unusual this was, especially after being in the pandemic so long...

and then, suddenly, we were on the field. we were still walking, but we were in the middle of the field, surrounded by soccer players. i sort of got out of the way when the ball was kicked, on its way to the goal... we eventually got beyond the field, but not before i heard the coach/ref? this old japanese guy. i noticed all the spectators on one side were these older japanese people, like maybe this was a community of grandparents watching their kids... and i remember thinking of this sort of community. i saw this young (like 12?) japanese girl, for some reason, i had an impression that her name was hatsue, and i had some thoughts about what it would be like to speak to this girl if i were that age... some notion about asking how she felt about me, and how, if she were to take five minutes or more to not respond, then it would be clear that she wasn't interested at all... i recall speaking to a young boy (the brash son of a friend of my wife's) about such things as dating- or maybe he brought it up- but he commented about how boring it would all be, and how he couldn't tolerate being 5 minutes talking to anyone...

i recall looking at the pavement, which was slightly cracked, and feeling this music pulsing through the floor of it... some howard jones theme...

oh yes, i also recall something about kaimi (this counselor at my school)... something about how as i was leaving a meeting at this building... there was a book or something... that i was supposed to pick up. and a comment that left some sort of impression that i was respected, at the very least... i don't know...

4/20/2021

things are alright, i suppose... i like to think that the one enduring quality that i am developing is perseverance. not much of what i do ends up clean. and by clean, i mean, not much ends up in a result that matches its intention within me. there are so many interruptions and... discontinuities... i believe in little's class on sociology of religion, we (i?) basically concluded that much of religion had to concern itself with the problems of discontinuity...

all in all, work is a happy place. certainly, there are difficulties, but they aren't insurmountable. certainly, i would wish that my students were more motivated, or that they "got things" quicker... but i wouldn't be in this job if i couldn't maintain a belief that there's hope in hopelessness... i like to think that, no matter what, some part of my love and intention seeps into these kids, and whether they "get it" during my tenure with them, or afterwards, it results in these kids "waking up" to the possibilities that i see in them. that is always my hope.

*****

as far as my writing's concerned... well, i guess it's going... i guess. of course, my cycles are getting wider and more spaced out, so there's more time to forget... more time to neglect... oblivion can be a good thing or a bad thing, i suppose. maybe a little oblivion is what keeps us from complete despair. if we remembered how terrible things were, then maybe we wouldn't have the courage to ever get up and do them again.

*****

inside, i suppose i am feeling very tired. i'm tired of the world. i'm tired of myself. i'm committed to my obligations, to my students, to my wife, to my family. maybe they are the tensile wires propping me up nowadays. but there oftentimes doesn't seem to be any intrinsic interest in much of anything... also, if i do evince an interest in anything, it often seems accompanied by a kind of guilt... as though someone in the back of my head were saying, "why are you wasting your time?" believe me, it doesn't matter WHAT you do, or how JUSTIFIED you think your actions are... that guilt will always return to haunt you... a lot of times lately, i just try to lie down and almost sleep it off... because there's nothing you can do to reason with it.

*****

my grandmother passed away in 2009, so that means it's been about 11 years now. i've been thinking a lot about this sort of thing, about how (unconsciously) you motivate yourself by attempting to prove yourself in the eyes of an audience. oftentimes, it's people like my parents, or my former teachers, or my grandparents. but as that audience somehow dissipates and disappears, you're left with this doubly empty feeling. doubly empty, because you realize that such external attentions were the motivating factor, and not something more "intrinsic" or "true"; and because you realize that this person, or that person, was a part of the pantheon of gods that you sought judgment from... and that whatever you do, they won't even see it any more. so what's the point? i don't care what most (99%) of mortals think. i wanted to impress YOU. and you're not even around to see it any more... i wanted to make YOU happy, and you've been gone so long...

i'm reminded of soul asylum lyrics:

"and you can't believe in yourself.

you can't believe in anyone else.

so why sit and wait for the new world

to begin?"

why do anything? why do anything for anybody?

i try to understand this, not in a pessimistic negative way... rather, i try to use this sort of statement to purify my intentions. i like to think, or in my idealized mind, i feel that: art is blind. it is a pure expression of some truth... but i'm a realist nowadays, and i also understand that i live in the real world, and tasks are not completed without some motivation, without some gas... and that's true of art as well. we don't do art unless we believe in an eye or an ear that would hear it. and we don't do art unless we've somehow fooled ourselves into believing in the beauty of what we're trying to say, hard as that is to do. it is a double obfuscation, art is... double, triple, etc., always with the goal of forgetting oneself...