February 12th, 2005
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On the way to Shigi-san, great mountain of Ikoma
Japan is a series of patchwork houses, roofs huddled close in a mosaic dissolving into the mountains. My mind is like the horizon, so many scattered stars, glittering through moonlight on a flowing black canvas to the sea. Joints and tissues stretched, my ease is a tarpaulin, stretching over a drum and breathing in the wet air. A plate on a floor in a magazine shot by a man with a debt and a wife. The bells ring lonely in a countryside, and time shifts, and circles forward, spinning out as my days spent living.
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A hill is raised, earth borne from fire in a time not to be recorded by men. Unexisting it remains in history books. But it is climbed and covered and praised. A thousand men’s prayers carried on the wind belong to a swinging bell, aluminum and copper rattled to wake the gods. A doorway waits, formed in the minds of the believers, logic and math self-constructed for purpose, just like religion. The religion of self-service, contentment formed for peace of mind and purpose. But was, was, and is, is. Thought of or not, this land will be covered with roofs and doorways, things with purpose and not. To see is enough, to see and remember. And these are the things I shall dream to make my own.
Tell Me Lies
They say a lot of things. They say that if you live in the past, you die in the past. They say those who forget the past are doomed to repeat it. Rodney says old flames are burnt matches. I say a lot of things, well actually I think a lot of things. How can you cut away the mystique and fantasy from a person and leave only a human behind? We endow everything. A dog is a dog. But no one can think of a dog without bringing up some partial feeling one way or another. Maybe you had a loving pet, maybe you were attacked by a rabid animal as a child. Maybe you’ve never even seen one. But if you’ve heard of one, you still have bias even if it’s the third degree. That�fs experience. That’s being human. Let’s say I tell you about a lor. What is a lor? Well, it’s a �clor. Beyond that, I have to make a comparison which will inevitably create bias. If I don�ft, you’ll never have any idea. The mind needs to make associations. And if you encounter it first hand, then you will involuntarily draw such parallels. Oh, it kind of looks like a Frisbee, smells like a frog, and makes me feel like an old jazz song.
So, we must maintain bias. We have to use experience to evaluate things, and in turn react to them. There’s no way around it. How we choose to act on our instincts determines who we are. My high school lit. teacher Mrs. Campagnoli said we are the sum total of our experiences. True. But who we will be remains unseen, because we have free will (supposedly). Who will I be tonight? What about tomorrow night? Next week? Next year? I don’t know. But I know who I want to become. I think. I know what experiences I want. Or do I? Maybe any experience is worth having. No, that’s certainly not true. Misconceptions about “the way things are” or not, I know millions of experiences are had every day that no one, no living THING should have.
But planning your destiny is futile. A waste of resources and a recipe for disappointment. “To thy own self be true.” So I need to not plan for “the best”, but I need to avoid “the worst”, if I can. So again, the answer lies in the middle. Not in the black, not white, but grey. How many things can you ask of and get the answer “Balance?” A lot. “Should I eat fish?” “Should I work really hard?” “How do I love?” Sometimes. Occasionally. With balance.
How do I take my own advice?
