dream: 8/29/2022

nothing long today (as i don't have time).

ever had a dream where you are feeling quiet despair because you know you have already failed, and are not taking steps to address the problem? that's what happened to me last night. i was apparently taking a few courses, but the ones that were sticking into my side were a calculus test, and another unidentified written test. i believe the calculus test had some sort of time deadline (11:00?) that was already past. i recall thinking that i'd done part of it, but for some reason, i wasn't actively completing it. and the other written thing, well, that was an additional coffin sealer... anyway, i was at some random lot in the middle of nowhere. i apparently had acquired some ownership rights to the lot, and was thinking about how to dig a massive hole in it. i thought it wouldn't be good to dig it too close to the entrance to the lot, or cars driving into it would immediately fall in. i dug up a little of it (it was sandy and full of worn out asphalt), and had a thought of bringing what i had dug up to the grow beds at home, where i could use it as "garden soil." but that was it...

when i woke up, i had to convince myself that i didn't have those double deadlines looming over me... the liberation kind of buoyed my spirits a bit, even though there was (IS) a lot of work i have to do in preparation for school this morning.

just as a bit of context, we dropped off aiden last night at my sister's place, where he will be staying as he takes courses over at uh manoa. it was a bit sad, a bit exciting. from here on out, the house will be that much emptier during the week (he still plans to come home during the weekends)...

OH YES. i did see someone when we walked over in kaimuki to get dinner. i recall her name right now, but in the moment, i couldn't. in fact, when i saw her, i almost didn't recognize her, and didn't call out to her. i feel guilty for that. i am thinking of seeking her out if she's still there. there are some people who are incredibly kind and giving, and yet may be in desperate need. i feel it's my obligation to reach out and provide some kind of assistance...

dream: 8/14/2022

there were several fragments to this dream. initially, we seemed to be in this house or restaurant. it was a group of workers, eating or meeting together, teachers from my new school. the spirit was at first jovial. then one of the teachers offered to cut people's hair for a low price ($11 and some change). everyone was joking around, until one of the spouses of the teachers saw a little fragment of a bang on the front of his head... and when everyone imagined what it would look like if it were symmetrical (since only one side was cut at the time), this man suddenly became irate. he threw down his money, and mentioned something about it being the worst $11 he'd ever spent, and then he tried to get out of the place.

the "place," by the way, suddenly transformed into this large almost palatial building, filled with large, red curtained ballrooms, and connected by wide staircases. in the ballrooms were a series of almost animatronic entertainment, featuring vignettes from the beatles and other shows. in fact, there was a kind of pattern to things: 2 mini rooms devoted to beatles in laser holograph animated style, 2 rooms devoted to something else, etc... in any case, it seemed as though everything was closing (maybe the catalyst was that irate spouse), and there were workers shutting it all down. they were even rolling up the staircases, or at least putting some kind of pink plastic sheet over them- i almost got caught beneath one of them, the workers were so eager to leave...

i'm not sure when, but at some point i was trying to get from one building (the one we were in) to an adjacent building (the dormitories). supposedly, the way i was supposed to go involved getting on this plastic ladder that was suspended from one narrow window in this building to a window in the dormitory. in between, it was suspended i don't know how many stories above the ground between the buildings. on this side, the ladder was at the top of a heap of plastic storage bins, so it didn't inspire confidence in terms of being secure. the other issue was- strangely- that i could change the angle of the building just by putting my weight on the floor... in any case, despite people saying that this was the only way to the dorm, i opted to go the normal way- find the ground level and walk across...

on the way- here, i started getting tenrikyo vibes- i realized that, despite my feelings of exhaustion, that i needed to "grin and bear it"- and i remembered feeling/thinking this as i walked up some stairs over red carpet- that i had to be some kind of role model, simply in order to get through this ordeal... in any case, i eventually reached the dormitories, and to my room, meeting a couple of the dorm workers on the ground office, one of whom looked awfully familiar from my tenrikyo days (he was a somewhat awkward guy whom i'd initially considered my senior, but who- it turns out- examined my academic and spiritual path, and tried to copy it- perhaps imagining that i'd found some kind of "answer" to life that he desperately needed...). there was some comment from the dorm workers- which at the moment eludes me- and then... i don't remember.

odd dream...

in any case, i woke (or worked out) an insight into the story i'm writing... something about how two people are falling asleep, and want to share the same dream, so they hold hands. but this is a fantasy. they actually end up dreaming of other people, significant people in their own separate lives.

7/10/2022

things were a bit busy. i was working for the gen cyber camp about a week after the regular school year ended... and then immediately after that, i started the 4 week summer hub. i put a lot of time and energy and planning into all of these things, because i really want to make the learning experiences (and i emphasize that they are experiences) fun and rewarding and profitable. on top of that, i have been preparing for my new position at the middle school, where i will be teaching (as of now) 7th graders in all subjects for resource... it always takes me a while to get back into taking care of myself, and taking care of my passions. as i've said before, life is complex, because you are straddling an infinite number of infinities. your role is to decide and structure life in a way that makes sense to you- otherwise, the world tears you apart- or at the very least, leaves you with this nagging dissatisfaction (did i leave the water running?). if you don't impose some structure upon the world, then you will always worry about it. because there are always things to worry about...

today, i decided that i would devote some time to "projects" (things that must or should be done). in particular, i fixed a bike that's been upside down in the yard for (i am not exaggerating) years. and i started my seedling factory. there were a few more things that i could've done, a few other impossibles or difficults, but i felt i had done enough to warrant me passing to another phase of my day. so the rest of the day, i've been working on my self. it's a routine that i employed, most effectively about a couple of years ago at the start of the pandemic. i just go over some things that i think make me stronger or smarter, or which i simply enjoy. when i "fall off the wagon," as i did last year- due in large part to a significant amount of external responsibilities, so i don't particularly feel guilty about it- then i tend to neglect myself, and i become like this untended yard, that starts to develop its own jungle of weeds... if i don't want that to happen, if i don't want entropy to creep into my life, then i have to keep on top of things. take care of myself. so in this moment, i am.

the wind is blowing. i love the sound of the wind... except when it starts to drag the branches of the nearby bottlebrush tree against the eaves of the house... but other than that, i like the sound of the wind. it makes everything seem clean. motion. current. flow... life is, or ideally is, flow. when we are disconnected from flow, in any way, then we are left with our own inertia and stillness, and resistance. and we wonder what disconnects us from ourselves and from life? because in stillness (which is a fiction?) we start to fall apart. we start to analyze. the glue that once held us to love and life is suddenly absent... maybe we are on different parts of this spectrum in life. and at different moments, with different challenges, we must learn to appreciate our position, understand it, in order to reconnect to it. old age. the loss of possibilities...

yes, that reminds me. about a week ago, i went to a dance party with my wife. it was a "new wave" party (meaning they were supposed to play music like the cure and depeche mode). i looked at the people around me, and found most of them looked tired and old- has beens. and yet, they were hungry for life. they were moving their bodies, in unexpected and sometimes unappetizing ways. i wasn't sure how to react to that. like should i join them in this unappealing frenzy? or should i be dignified as the grave? i kept my eyes, for the most part during the dances, on my wife- her happiness, her cute dances... and that saved me. as long as i have her as a partner, no matter how the world changes, how we change, we can see joy and find joy in each other... but it still left me with this question, which i suppose will repeat with greater and greater insistence as i grow older- how do appreciate life when less and less of it seems relevant or beautiful to you, or from you? will i still have a voice to sing or speak soon? would the world even hear my words from beneath the croaking of my voice? things like that.

in any case, i have no choice but to keep writing, to keep singing, to keep playing music, to keep doing art. it's not "therapeutic." it's existential.

dream: 6/13/2022

first off, apologies for not writing in some time. things have been hectic, yada yada yada.

i had one of those "i'm not authentic" kind of dreams. this time, it had something to do with me teaching a class related to chinese medicine, and realized that i was out of practice as an herbalist. i was constructing an herbal formula, something written by someone else, and i was gathering the ingredients. one of them looked like some origami star folded out of some red paper coated with some iridescent substance. i thought it odd, until, as i was trying to measure everything out, i realized that the paper origami itself contained the actual herb, which started to tumble out... anyway, as i was doing this, another intern was constructing his formula, and seeing a lot of my blatant transgressions, seemed about to say something. i felt ashamed, being some sort of instructor, and gathered all of my herbs, leaving quite a mess of the place... as i wandered through the chaotic school, i passed a column or wall of books- most meaningless to me- and heard a student voice a question, something about how to read a passage in chinese- to which some teacher out of view replied, in clear mandarin, the sentence, emphasizing the 4 tones... i felt even more out of my element, and wished that i were not there- a fake, a charlatan, etc.

that left me here. i'm about to start teaching summer hub. i'm not fake or a charlatan here. i actually think in this context that i am a very capable teacher. but the feeling, that of being inauthentic, stuck with me. then i was thinking of my story, which i have to write (i have a weekly homework assignment now). and i was thinking of a situation of living someone else's dream, and feeling out of control. i was thinking of this being either the protagonist's situation, or a surrogate's situation. in the dream, there are many characters, and some represent, not necessarily different people, but more accurately different strategies or energies latent within one individual. the strongest voiced is, of course, kappa-chino, who acts out of selfish anger, and tries to convert every dream into "proper gander" to fuel his war against all humans- mainly because he does not wish to confront the evil within himself. but yagoro is a character who doesn't have much of a voice, but is inherently one of the wisest in the pantheon of the dream. he isn't the "wise man," necessarily, but is closest to the protagonist in spirit, because he is a humble seeker, tortured by "waters beyond his making," and questioning what his place is in the universe if he is caught in a current that he does not agree with, and never chose... this is similar to the feeling i just had, that of being caught up in a dream or a situation that you did not make or choose, but you have to make the best of it, and somehow "be authentic."

we'll see how that goes. it's going to be a busy day, because after my summer hub (which itself is kind of a gamble), then i will have to go to my future school to attempt to "unpack" a few things... i'm nervous about starting at a new school.

dream: 3/21/2022

i had that nightmare yet again... the recurring nightmare, modified in some respects, about coming to school completely unprepared... here, i thought i was going to class to have some prep for a final, only to realize that it WAS the final. the professor was passing out those little blue books, and i could see that students were seating themselves apart from each other. i reluctantly took my book and found my seat... ostensibly, it was a calculus exam; i could hear the professor mention to the class something about the final problem. i took a quick glance at that problem: #29 or something, and heard from a distance about how a lengthy proof was required... even though it was supposed to be on calculus, the initial questions had more to do with history or religion. the last problem that i eventually woke up in the middle of had to do with a special class of ritualists known as the sword makers or sword builders (i even saw a made up japanese name for them, something like "ogori no ..."). the question was asking why, among all ritualists, they were forgiven for such things as tardiness and other violations, even when precision was required in some ceremonies. i was slowly writing my response in sloppy, panicked handwriting, something about how these "sword makers" were so vital to various ceremonies and rites and so specialized, that they were afforded some liberties that other ceremonial professionals were not. in the middle of my response, supposedly in these untampered blue books, i noticed that my friend had put a big colorful sticker on the bottom of one of the pages. in desperation, i spent some time scratching it out, and then putting some sort of tape over it, trying to decide which looked more "professional." in the end, i scratched it out, and wrote a lame "sorry" next to it, before proceeding to the next page.

i remember seeing my roommates calmly talking about something completely unrelated (apparently, in this final, people could still talk once they were done). i asked them if they were done. they both replied, "of course." i was incredulous. it still seemed like the beginning of the final period, and i was writing my hand off, and it seemed impossible, just from the sheer volume of writing that was required, that anyone would finish that early. but they were done. in fact, it seemed that most people were done. everyone was calmly going about their business as though this- all of it- were a piece of cake... and i felt alone, struggling, desperate... as i have felt at many instances throughout my life.

i rolled over in my sleep and awoke, eyes still closed, to the darkness. i remember that i had to struggle, and stop myself from continuing my dream's train of thought, to write, to come up with the ending of that particular sentence... there was this thing i had to do, wrapped up in fear... and outside of it, in this empty darkness, was a sort of relaxed oblivion... which, actually, was the true remembering. of course, i "evaporated" from the one to the other, taking me here.

[maybe: this is like death.]

3/16/2022

it's been a long time since i wrote. i suppose i have been in a funk. maybe i always am in a funk. anyway, although it is spring break, i have basically been working with our robotics team every day. i alternate between going to the school and going to the beach. it's okay, i guess, but i still feel anxious about being prepared for the actual tournament. anxious and tired.

i played a game called "omori" mainly because my daughter recommended it highly. in a way, i got really attached to the characters, and felt devastated by the tragedy which befalls them. i thought the game conveyed mental illness in a perceptive way. it left me feeling simultaneously drained and hopeful.

after playing the game yesterday, i worked on weeding the front yard. i felt motivated to really push through. there is yet one corner of the lawn that i haven't touched much. but i really tried to push through it. the weeds there are of a particular sort, they have round leaves (sort of like the spreading clover), but underneath, they create this mesh of roots that dig deep into the ground. so to pull them requires me to really dig and pull at the same time, so that i get their tap roots out of the ground. what i mean to say is that it takes a lot of effort to progress. i suppose that that effort (and i suppose any effort) fills me with a sense of despair, and i have been avoiding that feeling for a long time. i have been avoiding it with regards to many things, so that i end up feeling sort of numb.

i mean, i have been putting what effort i can into work. but it's a kind of day-by-day thing. there's no overarching vision that i have, nothing that inspires or motivates me. it's just negotiating through the present day. and the best you have in this sort of mode is a feeling of survival, it's not really a feeling of general accomplishment.

i look upon people like my father-in-law or my own father as people who managed to push through. who take the time to complete things. and they seem so clean. morally. i don't know. i for some reason hesitate to push through to the ends of things. mainly because many things, it seems, have no end. and also because i am just so tired. so tired of life and its many endless needs... that always seem pointless... is that the depression talking? i am not sure. is that old age talking? i am not sure.

most of life seems a pointless illusion.

there are things that i believe in. i believe in people's happiness. i try to guard it, protect it... but then maybe that's part of my problem. i don't see beyond their smiles, or their lack of a smile. i don't see beyond the superficialities of things. or maybe i don't want to. because that would mean that i would need to involve myself more. push through. dig deeper. etc. and i'm too tired to do that. so tired...

but anyway, as i was saying, i felt a kind of quiet hope after playing omori. it's not exactly something i can articulate. it was more an openness to push through. i don't know if that can work with the story writing, etc. because it always seems to lead to some sort of tangle and snarl. it's not as though i have ever found that moment of clarity when it seems you have pushed through...

there is always a voice inside of my head saying, "what's the point?" but sometimes i do things anyway. because nothing, ultimately, has a point. sometimes we do things not because they are rational or because they have worth. sometimes we just follow the current within ourselves. and i suppose... that's okay. because as long as we are trying to be true to ourselves, and honor truth in general, i suppose that leads to the path we're supposed to go on. right?

in other words, maybe it's okay not to be perfect all the time. maybe it's okay to feel tired. i try my best, and sometimes it take my best just to make it through each day... and then i collapse, trying to dream for the next day. and that's okay. that's okay...

i hope you're okay, non-existent reader.

3/3/2022

if you spend your life effacing yourself, then you shouldn't complain when no one sees you, or even misses you when you're gone.

*****

yesterday was my birthday. it's kind of a milestone birthday, although i don't want to mention it. i usually don't feel good around this time of year. like, sometimes i feel physically ill, or in other years, i just get into a deep emotional rut. this year, i was just really - tired. kind of feeling blah. i came home after teaching at school, even though i had some (rare) empty time, and i could've basically done anything... but i came home, and the first thing i did was lay on the sofa in the garage and crash. i didn't really fall into full sleep, but i sort of drifted for a couple of useless hours (a bit less than a couple) before i got up (reluctantly) and went to my other job teaching at the acupuncture school. these routines i follow, i began to think about how long i have retraced these steps, respoke these words... i am an echo of myself. a copy of a copy. i can live this life without even thinking, really... and i think about the dreams i have, of writing, of finishing something, the same dreams that have haunted me for years, and the idea that i am no closer now than years ago makes me feel a quiet and desperate despair... also, there's a realization that even were i to finish, no one would read it- as no one read my self-published book - and so i would still essentially be cycling/spinning wheels on a gearless bike, not moving forward, not getting anywhere... and maybe if that's the case, maybe all these dreams, all these hopes, were for naught.

... no, i don't entirely think that. just sometimes i do. in my daily job, i try to give fully of myself. i really try. i don't think most people, or many people, or perhaps any people, see this. maybe it's this feeling of generosity that fails me. sometimes i think the best teachers are the ones who don't care... or more precisely, they care more about themselves, about their own survival, than they do about their charges. and that's why they're able to make things work. they're able to force the pieces of their lives to turn like perfect gears... they reshape their students in the process... my mentality, aside from "pushing" people to do things that will help them, aside from relentless encouragement, it is to allow people to be themselves. in all their chaos. and that leads to mess and frequent disappointment... i don't know if that leads to better results, better people... but it is my way. and i don't think, at this late stage in the game, that i can change it...

*****

the danger of growing old is... i guess it is that you are less able to generate or believe in your own illusions. maybe also the illusions of others... some might say that is the benefit of age. it's the whole "wisdom" part we're supposed to think is the "fruit" of all that living... but it's a bitter fruit. and it disallows some of the stupid and impossible and "felt" aspects of life. i honestly think, at times, that the foolhardiness of youth, or rather, the foolhardiness IS youth, that innocence and stumbling progress IS what youth consists of... so when people ask that stupid question of what i would do, knowing what i know, if i could be young again... well, at times, i think it's an impossible question- not because you can't really go back- but because even if you could, it would still be impossible, because you would still miss out on what was essential to that time in your life, which is the magic of not knowing. in essence, going back would just bring the tired perspective of old age to an earlier point in the game... it would be like replaying the same game from level 1, after you've solved the game. all of the magical things you saw when you first played would be seen as tired and pointless things... that's what i think sometimes, anyway... when i am down.

*****

i still reflect on my lack of friends... it's no surprise that that's the case, that i have very few friends. i don't put any effort into "cultivating" or "supporting" relationships. i don't reach out... i think for me life has been about putting yourself, your full effort, into things, into activities, etc. and friends were just- ancillary- to that process. they were your comrades in arms... the people you hung out with when you were tired... the people that accepted you as you were... just sort of a passive release, a reflex. like the recoil of your lungs on an exhale...

and maybe that's part of the point... that i don't feel i can relax with most people. there is always a concern to address... and i always raise concerns, like walls, to keep people out... i know i do that. why do i do that? maybe a part of me just doesn't want to hear it. i just don't want to feel disturbed... and maybe that's the crux, that i love the quiet churning of my own whirlpool heart more than i love the disturbance that would result from letting someone in, letting someone out...

*****

i would like to be remembered as someone who cared.

but i think that it won't be like that, so much. i think in life that there are some people who attract attention and love to themselves like a magnet. and there are others who are immune to that dimension of pushes and pulls, people that are like the dead rocks that have no iron in them, that just fall to the floor when you try to stick them to a magnet... and that's just the way it is. you can't change the laws of the universe, or the laws of yourself.

"it's okay," he tells his student. "it's okay." repeatedly to say that. almost as though it is to convince himself of it. that this is the way things are. and the world may not love you. but in this moment, i will love you. i will find a place in my heart for you. remember this please. because it is the only gift i have to give, only in this moment. and then i will be gone.

i hold you to me in the way that words can, only so long as you remember them, and pay attention to them. once you forget, once you move on, then maybe that bond is lost.

*****

it's still early, on this first day of being whatever age i am. i'm going to try to sleep and dream. most of what i am now is the desire to forget... in those moments when i wake, i murmur my love to those few around me who stay, my wife, my children, my dog (yes, i love him)... a circle that surrounds me and is me... and i try to go back to sleep, again, to the dream that is my life.