Fate, Hope & Despair and Rubbage Smubbage

Fuck Fate.

I am sure some will cringe reading that. And maybe those who do will think my use of the expletive “fuck” is offensive, or as a minimum you consider it (even me) crude. But it is not; nor am I. Although, I will concede to these people that for in sooth the sentence includes crudeness, albeit one of a more sublime sort, one that we so often use in our daily lives and yet never give much deep heed to its implications: fate. Fate is crude. Fuck Fate.

I have my sense for what Fate is and is not. And the neo-classical sense of the word is a cancer that rots the life and ruins the soul of people who conjoin themselves to it. Whenever we Hope (and we will get to that shitty word in a moment) that the gods or God or even three sisters sit somewhere eternal ordaining for us our destinies then we allow ourselves an opt-out clause from reality. Fate is not something decided for us, it is decided by us.

Fate, if there is such a thing to begot in this world then is merely the intersection of potentials turned into kinetic form: this is fate, not Fate. Two people meeting for the first time is representative of such an intersection. What they decide to do with that opportunity–or not to do as the case may be–is the whole measure and sum of fate.

In my desertion of Fate as some crippled, infirm of purpose denizen of ill-got nether-dreams, I implicitly declare to you that Life is not at about passively hoping for “sonorous moments when Time stops itself for us”; I instead declare that we must fully commit ourselves and exercise our Time on this Firmament to find for ourselves the things we need. Live our Life in the Now and only the Now, awaiting neither godly proclamation or Fate to make Heaven on Earth for us. Do the needful, even be the needful, but never be the needy.

And while we are on this topic. Fuck Hope. And fuck Despair, too.

Right on the heels of Fate is Hope. If there is nothing else to live in than the Now then there is no Hope, nor its dire sibling Despair. More precisely, there is no need for Hope or for Despair. These are both borne when we are unable, even unwillingly, to embrace Now as it is (and is not). It is only in that moment when we forsake both any resignation to our Past and fear for some indeterminable Future that we step fully into Now. And from this place–Now–that we will find neither room nor need for Hope or Despair.

Life has no memory of the former Nows, the things we collectively call Past. All those Nows exist separate and distinct to each other even as one Now leads to the next Now. Yes, the gestalt–the form of Now–is sum total of all previous Nows but it is so without sense of judgment or perspicacity. Future is not yet born as it were; more accurate it is to acknowledge that it is never ever really born. Future exists only as a concept, a conceit even, of the sentient mind that projects itself from this very Now onto some other Now not yet realized. Hope and Despair are then children who inhabit this Future we form from our very minds. Neither are real or necessary; their very existence is contingent upon us requiring a belief in some pre-ordained nature to the Universe–Fate. But without Fate and that unreality we call the Future we can eject fully from our Lives both Hope and Despair.

And thus this is how I awoke this morning feeling neither Hope nor Despair in Life. In the modern canon of Society it may seem to many that I awoke in a stupor, a resignation to the World around me. But this is the farthest thing from the Truth. I feel no Fear for the things I care most for nor or the people I Love. And trust you I believe I Love more truly than any other previous Now in my Life. It was only when I awoke this morning in the absence of Hope and Despair that I discerned that both Hope and Despair as stony buttresses to a prison that held me captivate to some Future I felt Fate might once engender on my behalf. Indeed there is still fate but no Fate; indeed there still is an infinite set of intersections in the Life that I have remaining. And I will decide upon them as they come, never before their time nor after in reflection, but only as I can, only as I meet them Now.

Tickity-tockity-tick-tock-tock

It is an interesting thing: growing old.

I expected a few things to happen. Thinning hair: check. Worsening eyesight: check. Epidermal blemishes: check. Crow’s feet: check. Biological clock: what?!

I recently finished reading a book where in one of the early protagonists is a very young girl of all but six years in age. As I read of her plight in the book and her flight from one danger to the next, I could not help myself from feeling this deep sense of longing to protect her. I found myself telling myself that if she was my child none of this would be happening. Which to be fair, if it were true, at least in context to the story, then it would have been some other little girl at the center of the epidemic, and the original little girl and I would have been ripped in half by the ensuing epidemic of vampires. Keep with me here, even in a vampire story one can find humanity, right?

What I found interesting at both a personal and detached analytical level was this soft, undefinable emotion around caring for a child; not just any child: my child. The aspect of taking care of children is not new to me. I always made it a point to be near the infants. Even when I was very young, starting as soon as 3, I would “volunteer” at the child care-center at our church. I recall even back then quietly believing that someone (I) needed to be there to care for them in case they started to cry. It is not something I voiced (granted I did not speak English for another year or two), but I just thought everyone thought and felt this about children. Truth be told, I have had to actually learn to stop and consider the situation when I hear a child cry as instinctually I will seek them out and scoop them up into my arms, even a complete stranger’s child. So this sense of protecting children is nothing new to me. It is a truly natural sense of proportion I have of this world: protect children.

So I found myself immersed in this book (“The Passage” by Justin Cronin) and this young girl, Amy, finding myself morphing into another character of the book, Brad Wolgast. He is a man who has lived a life in ways I can clearly and deeply identify with. And he takes on as his mission to protect this young girl, Amy. I became this character. Even after I closed the pages for an evening, I was still him, still wondering how my Amy was. It became, for me, more than just protecting a child; but, protecting my child.

What is so odd is how clearly I feel the desire (albeit not the need) to have child, a daughter. I have no illusions. Two divorces later I appreciate my probabilities of marrying again are low. And lower still are my chances of having children as I grow ever older. Regardless of this intersection between this desire and these realities, I harbor no need to rush matters along just to have children. It is both very foreign and very familiar for me to feel this deep impulse to want to be a father, to bring into this world another human being to raise, to nurture, to love. And to point, I never really appreciated, till now, that sublime peace that comes from listening to your biological clock surface itself into your consciousness.

And it may be, in passing, even stranger that this surfaced while reading a book about the end of the world. Tickity-tockity-tick-tock-tock, indeed.

２０１０年４月の日本旅

I recently visited Japan from April 1 to 11, 2010. While there I visited with friends and (host) families in Nagoya, Kyoto, and Kanazawa.

It is difficult to fully explain or otherwise describe both the experience and impact of visiting Japan. Japan has long been a place of particular and special importance to me. In many ways one might say there are two me’s; an American version that you know as Ward and a Japanese version by the name of 和道. Beyond this there is little I can find in words that can succinctly explain this to people. At best I can, the better of me finds a voice in Japan(ese).

Diary

On Thursday (April 1) I left Seattle for Nagoya.

On Friday (April 2) I arrived in Nagoya where one of my best friends, Yasuo KITANE (北根安雄) and his family made room for me in their home. Both Yasuo and their soon-to-be 4 son, Hiroki, met me at the airport. While their 18-month-old daughter, Sawako, was frightened by my presence on the first night, she quickly warmed to me on the following day and we quickly became best friends. Hiroki and I enjoyed creating sentences on his Pokemon toy. His favorite being “Ward looks like a gorilla” (わどうわごりらみたい).

On Saturday (April 3) the KITANE family and I went to Yamazaki River (山崎川) where we enjoyed Saturday morning with a casual stroll with others enjoying the Spring weather amongst cherry blossoms. Afterwards, Yasuo went to Nagoya University to prepare for the new students and I spent the afternoon on my own using メーグル, a Nagoya tourist bus, to visit both Nagoya Castle (名古屋城) and Tokugawa Garden (徳川園).

On Sunday (April 4) we all took the car and visited Ise Jingu (伊勢神宮) which is about a 2-hour drive from their home. Ise Jinguu (shrine) is arguably the center of Japan’s Shinto-world. The central shrine is reconstructed and moved every 20 years as has been done for over 1300 years. This both serves as an important aspect of the valuation of renewal in Shinto and as a more practical purpose (especially in modern times) of ensuring these particular building skills are preserved.

On Monday (April 5) I took the Shinkansen from Nagoya to Kyoto. I found a last-minute great deal (7000 yen per night) at Kyoto Garden Palace (京都ガーデンパレス) which is situated directly across the old Palace (御所). I decided to walk the 4.2 kilometers from Kyoto station to the hotel in the middle of hot, humid day. While that distance is nothing for a jog, it is another thing when done with a large hiking pack strapped to your back. I did not let this stop me from visiting the palace and Kamogawa Park (鴨川公園) relatively near to the hotel. I then spent the evening out and about window-shopping and having an absolutely perfect meal at a yakitori joint.

On Tuesday (April 6) I woke early (5:30 AM) to get out and visit the Palace grounds and walk along Kamogawa to get some more pictures of cherry blossoms in the early light. I then made my way down to Kiyomizudera (清水寺) where I enjoyed a number of shrines and temples in the relative absence of other tourists (and entrance fees). I did spend 600 yen to visit Koudaiji (高台寺) which is some of the best money I spent during my visit. I spent a good hour next to the rock garden relaxing in the shade and taking pictures. A bit further south I visited Chourakuji (長楽寺) and its Buddhist cemetery which is a bit off the main trail of tourists that by this time in the morning had begun to appear. I did the obligatory visit to Maruyama Park (円山公園) which is hallmark to sakura viewing in Japan. Sadly, I found much of the park cluttered with litter that sufficiently detracted its appeal to me such that I quickly moved on. I eventually immersed myself with the ebb and flow of tourists till I ended up at Chionin (知恩院) where another well-spent 300 yen earned me entrance to a set of temples well worth visiting numerous times to appreciate it all. While by this time in the afternoon my feet began to feel the exhaustion of 10 kilometers, I decided to end my afternoon at Nijyou Castle (二条所). Much of the beauty of this place is inside its buildings with its many ink paintings; sadly photography is forbidden and so I have little to share other than to encourage you to go and visit it yourself! I again spent the evening out and about, finding myself another place to enjoy an unbelievably delicious dinner of Japan-domestic chicken.

On Wednesday (April 7) I spent the morning doing some shopping at Kinokuniya for books and gifts while walking another 6 kilometers or so through Kyoto looking at neighborhoods. I took the express train from Kyoto to Kanazawa where my friend, Mark, met me.

On Thursday (April 8 ) I spent most of my day visiting with one of my (host) families, the Demura family. It has been many years since they have heard from me (for reasons beyond the scope of this blog) and so there was much ground to cover catching up with each other. I spent the afternoon with my aunt and uncle who took me out for lunch and then decided they wanted to join me in seeing Kanazawa Castle (金沢城) and Kenrokuen (兼六園) together. I spent the late afternoon at their home relaxing and hanging out with everyone till I met up with Mark later that evening for dinner.

On Friday (April 9) Mark and I spent the day hanging out together. He took me to a macro-biotics place near his home for lunch. I must admit I could eat at this place every day and never tire of it. We drove out to Kanazawa University (金沢大学) where he and I shared our memories from our shared time there some 12 years prior. It is delightful to remember all the different places we all hung out and many places I had forgotten until we saw them. The university has increased in physical size with the relocation of the engineering department. It truly feels much more like a real university than ever before. There is also a significant amount of infrastructure put in place near the university that has helped foster the commercial district. Given that I did not get as much time as I would have liked taking pictures, Mark and I returned to Kanazawa Castle (金沢城) and Kenrokuen (兼六園). He and I had a great dinner and then ended the evening at his favorite jazz joint.

On Saturday (April 10) I spent the morning Oyama Shrine (尾山神社) where I purchased a safe-driving charm (交通安全守り). The shrine is one that I often visited when I was living in Kanazawa and holds a special place in my heart. I then walked over to もっきりや (Mokkiriya), a jazz cafe where I spent many an afternoon enjoying a glass of beer while reading when I lived in Japan. I then grabbed a taxi back to the train station to catch an express train back to Nagoya. I spent the evening with Yasuo and family, quietly enjoying each other’s company over a home-cooked meal.

On Sunday (April 11) I left Nagoya for Seattle.

Photos

Below is a list of the places I visited along with links to the various photo-albums. The links require an account on Facebook. I listed most of the places I visited. In some cases I decided I not to publish pictures on Facebook in so much as I felt the quality of the pictures did not warrant it.

Alternatively, you can see most all of my photos at my gallery in their original format. I suggest using my gallery if you are interested in print-quality versions.

Nagoya (名古屋), April 2 to 5

Yamazaki River (山崎川)

Nagoya Castle (名古屋城)

Tokugawa Garden (徳川園)

Ise Jingu (伊勢神宮)

Kyoto (京都), April 5 to 7

Nijyou Castle (二条所)

Kanazawa (金沢), April 7 to 10

Kanazawa Castle (金沢城)

Kenrokuen (兼六園)

Oyama Shrine (尾山神社)

A little faith, please

In Words Redux I tried to differentiate between to love and to be in love; however, in the process of conversing with a friend I was presented with a conundrum: they did not agree with my usage. Naturally, not agreeing is oft times the very hallmark of a good and meaningful conversation, and as such is of no real concern. What is important is to understand the other, though. This person reserved to love for friends and family and to be in love for someone very much more, a soul-mate. As such, their own usage encompassed other ideas that I reserve, in part, for to love. Which is to say, the more we talked the more I realized we were trying to express the same sentiments albeit using terms differently.

This got me to cogitating upon what is it exactly about love that I am trying to express. And more importantly, I wondered if there there might be a better word that encompasses, even if only for this particular person, these (my) concepts. Ironic as it may be, I had to reach back to my youth to discover a word that I rarely use out of its ecclesiastical connotations. The word? Faith. It is ironic, as it were, in that I walked away from the Church many decades ago, although I never lost my faith in God-god-Life-Universe [1]. But that evening found me returning to the teachings of the Bible and to the story of the kingdom of God made whole on this Earth. I started to wonder if the prerequisite events required to herald the creation of this kingdom is not the return of “(our) lord and savior, Jesus Christ”, but instead something both quite extra-ordinary and even more simple? I wondered if maybe, just maybe, we might instead see “Heaven on Earth” not dependent upon the big-letter “F” Faith in God-god-Life-Universe but upon the little-letter “f” faith in another person: our soul-mate.

In this manner our soul-mate becomes both proxy and mirror for god, whereby our soul-mate transforms into our alpha and omega, the beginning and end of all things. But we must remember that our soul-mate is our equal; therefore, the transformation of one is also the transformation of the other. In this way, I very much mean we exhibit both the humility toward our soul-mate as we would god, but that we also exhibit the very qualities of god in ourselves through the act of compassion. We simultaneously put our soul-mate before and above us, all the while exhibiting love through acts of acceptance, forgiveness and charity. As in our Faith in god which does not waver or falter and is eternal, nor does our faith in our soul-mate which is to last till the end of our days. In this manner we find some deeper wisdom in the traditional vows of marriage, for indeed “in sickness and in health, in richness and poorness till death” we discover these very qualities of godliness expressed in this simple succession of dualities the clear statement: we devote ourselves to each other through our faith in each other, that we forever aspire to be true to each other at all times even as we, as imperfect humans, are tried in so attempting.

In this light we might reexamine the words “love your fellow man as you love god” to mean something more deeply, more personal than a mere question of religious fidelity, but humanistic harmony.

Continue reading “A little faith, please”

Avatar, Linqua Franca or just Francs?

This is in response to Dave M. post over at Lost In Translation.

I wonder if some of the general objections made of Avatar and others in its vein can be rolled up to a difference between preferring a story (implying human archetypes) and creating an alternate reality. Namely, how far should a movie or story be realistic to be compelling?

As a space geek, “sound in space” is one of those classical gotchas. Also, space vehicles flying around like airplanes (even the beloved Battlestar Galactica straddles this line) can really make some people groan in their seats. And if we examine Avatar, I am sure many a military geek noted the absurdity of mounting a land and air campaign when you have a ready space infrastructure capable of dropping rocks from space to quite explosive (and safe) effect. But in spite of these gaffs, a story moves forward; or to put from the perspective of the director, the attainment of reality is not compelling enough reason to adopt it (reality) over something else (fiction).

I still argue Avatar is a (damn) good movie if put in proper context: a story that entertains and makes money. It takes a lot of liberties (noble savage being a significant one), but it still tells an interesting story of the clash of cultures, loves, and the rest of human life generalized down to 3 hours. And as such it is open for dissection with extreme prejudice by more critical minds.

I believe one premise of Dave’s argument/critique of the movie is more of the commodification, as it were, of languages (and thereby extension the associated cultures). Avatar introduces a readily digestible set of sounds that make up a “language”, but a language without a meaningful culture to substantiate and flesh it out. I am not sure Avatar creates this phenomenon, rather it merely exploits it. And it is a phenomenon that has been around in one form or another. How many books are there on “Learn XYZ Language in 15 Minutes a Day”? And how long have they been on our shelves? Well, maybe not yours or mine, but you follow me. Let us take Japan as example. As a culture it has assimilated en masse innumeral words from the English language; so much so that whenever at a loss for a word in Japanese you can throw in the English word pronounced as a Japanese would say and you will often be understood (and right!).

I believe the other premise which Dave introduces inductively at the end of his blog in the form of a question: “But, given Cameron’s goal of depicting a clash not just of different species but of civilizations … should (and could) Na’vi be so easily, so directly, translatable into English?” I would agree with the embedded critique within that question if Avatar had truly remained at the level of cultures. However, at least for me, the movie stayed solidly within the personal spheres of its characters; as such those clashes of civilization and culture remained mere background to a different story, one that I thoroughly enjoyed: twice.