"Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" (by Rob Pirsig)

I began reading this book about a week ago, and so far so good. It's actually very ironic that I picked it up and started reading it at this time in my life, just because I lot of the broad issues it touches on, such as  technology, rationality, and beauty (as in romanticism), are also issues that I have recently studied in classes, discussed with friends, or have simply come to think about a lot in the sense of how I fit in with that particular school of thought and how that thought fits in with the world.

Here's a very interesting excerpt from the book:

"When analytic thought, the knife, is applied to experience, something is always killed in the process. That is fairly well understood, at least in the arts. Mark Twain's experience comes to mind, in which after he had mastered the analytic knowledge needed to pilot the Mississippi River, he discovered the river had lost its beauty. Something IS always killed. But what is less noticed in the arts-- something is always created too. And instead of just dwelling on what is killed it's important also to see what's created and to see the process as a kind of death-birth continuity that is neither good nor bad, but just IS."

This passage may seem very random and out of place and you probably are very confused reading it since you don't know the context it came out of, but no worries. Even with the book's context applied, the passage still is out of place and makes very little sense. Whenever the author deviates from his narrative or reality and goes into tangents on rationality and ghosts and what is real and what is not, you basically have no idea what he's talking about. That's not always a bad thing, though, because sometimes you have to have no idea what someone is talking about in order to discover some new bit of knowledge.

But back to the excerpt, I agree and can relate to his first claim, then when you fully understand the analytic knowledge of something it DOES lose its beauty. I have always loved writing, so when I had to start thinking back in high school about what I wanted to be when I grew up (funny isn't it, how we're never fully "grown up", how we are always still aspiring to that thing which we want to be, "when we grow up") and I made the obvious decision to follow my passion for writing and become a journalist. But after three years of clumsily shodding my way through the school newspaper in high school and then diving into rigorous and terribly difficult journalism writing classes in college and spending months and months trying to land a position at the college newspaper, and then when I did, realizing how I am in no way cut out for the ugliness and crassness of the newsroom, I quit. I had too. Writing had become gray, black, and ugly. It was no longer a beautiful blue sky or a bright orange sun shine. Analytically understanding and dissecting writing killed the natural art of writing for me. (Although the book talks about killing something off always creates something new, well I have yet to really discover what that is, but when I do, I'll let you know).

One more thing relating to the aforementioned excerpt, I do NOT agree with the author's claim that something can be seen as "neither good nor bad, but just is." Here he is referring the a life-like cycle of death and rebirth that are the effect of analytic thought, but that is not important. What is crucial is how WRONG he is. EVERYTHING is either good or bad. Nothing is NOTHING. Similarly to how the fact of gravity existed way before the scientific discovery of gravitational force was made (got that from the book too!), nothing can exist with out being good or bad. What's in the middle? There is no middle. There is no "OK" in life. Because where does something fit into OK if it is not good or bad? OK is a socially conceptualized expression of laziness. Sunshine is good. Vampires are bad. Tofu is..... well, i say it's good, but most of society would yell at me that it is disgusting and nasty and bad. So yes, some truth are subjective, many are actually. The point is, how even though I fully believe that everything has a good or a bad truth to it, it is still SO hard to distinguish this absolute truth in my daily life. So often I cannot tell if an action or decision is good or bad, or it just never crosses my mind as to if what I do is bad then I shouldn't do it, or if what I do is good then I should do it more often.

So my challenge to you after this lengthy tirade is this: Think about what you consider to be absolute truth in your life, whether it has to deal with abortion, gay rights, family issues, broken friendships, love. Why are they absolutely Good or Bad to you, but completely opposite to someone else. What is your role in figuring out what they mean to you and backing that up with conviction? And most importantly, how do you deal with the gray areas, the things in your life that you can't figure out if they are wholly good or wholly bad?

"Details in the fabric"

There are many intricate details in life that we miss. We fail to notice them because we do not think about the details in the fabric. Have you ever actually, literally stopped to smell a bush of roses? If you haven't, why not?

I feel very gracious that I am blessed with so many simple things in life to be thankful for. Sunshine. Laughter. Knowledge. Friends. The list is literally endless.

But I realized something awesome today at work. I was sorting through and processing documents from the national capitol park service from 30 or 40 some odd years ago and I came across a remarkable architectural sketch of a bridge. It was a plain overpass located somewhere in the DC metro area over an arbitrary expressway, but the drawing was simply beautiful. It hit me that so often we drive under those things, thinking in our minds how ugly and unwelcoming they are. But this drawing was magnificent.

Why can't we see an overpasses the way the architect does, as a support structure bridging two places together an and making something that was previously impossible, now possible? When looking at a city garden square downtown, why don't we see each individual tree as an oak, a maple, or a red cedar, reaching its branches towards the heavens? Or when thinking about an area of land, why don't we divide up each little land use intricacy to ponder why the land is used and how its used and for what purpose?

So instead of just looking up at the sunshine and smiling because it's sunny out, I am going to be humbled by the gift of warmth and light and think of the able ways the sun benefits us, not only for those reasons but many more, including solar power! :)

Here is a lovely Jason Mraz song  called Details in the Fabric. Give it a listen!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XdIw6tEjyEg

"Love the earth and sun and the animals"

I'm a hypocrite. I really am. I always encourage others to follow their dreams, to do great things, to accomplish all that they can. But I don't do any of that. I am lazy and afraid and unmotivated at times. I'd rather be complacent and take the easy way out than risk failure or embarrassment.

I need to change.

I talk and think so much about what I want out of life, what I can contribute to this earth, but I don't start anything and I don't take action. I need to stop lying to myself.

I need to take action.

This isn't meant to be a completely discouraging post, but rather it is a wake up call to myself. I need to figure out a way to encourage myself and to follow through with my desires and my dreams. I need to figure out how to pick up my feet and begin moving forward. I need to stop dwelling on my shortcomings, figure out what it is I really want to do or at least figure out what it is I can work towards accomplishing, and begin. And along the way I need to cherish the journey and the moments, to appreciate the little things, and to remember the good and grow from the bad.

Here's an awesome Walt Whitman qoute:
"This is what you shall do: love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning god, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body..."


So how do you need to change? How should you take action? How do you want to live your life to the fullest?

Begin it.

Original photo: by Susannah Tucker (http://www.etsy.com/shop/susannahtucker)

And check out the song Mango Tree by Angus and Julia Stone.

Actually, just check out Angus and Julia Stone. They rock. In a folksy, mellow, beautiful way, but still, they rock none the less. :) I think I may have stumbled upon my new favorite band!

"Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring"

"Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring"
by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)

Mindful of you the sodden earth in spring,
And all the flowers that in the springtime grow,
And dusty roads, and thistles, and the slow
Rising of the round moon, all throats that sing
The summer through, and each departing wing,
And all the nests that the bared branches show,
And all winds that in any weather blow,
And all the storms that the four seasons bring.
You go no more on your exultant feet
Up paths that only mist and morning knew,
Or watch the wind, or listen to the beat
Of a bird's wings too high in air to view,--
But you were something more than young and sweet
And fair,--and the long year remembers you.

It's days like today, a warm sunshine laden earth after too much rain and cold and clouds, that reminds me of how grateful I am just to be alive. Though I'm exhausted and worn out from school and everything, I so much appreciate the wonderful gift that nature is. I hope to always remember how it feels to sit outside in the springtime and in the sunshine and just be. Not do anything but apprecaite the warmth of the sun on my skin and the birds singing in the trees and the happy bugs flying about.

This poem is about just that too. It's about being grateful for the little things in life, not even things that we have been outright given by others nor the things we have acquired for ourselves, but the simplicities of each day, storms, and seasons, and nature, and dust. It all combines and works together in an intricate, delicate way to form the lives that we live, the beautiful lives that we live, so we ought to be appreciative and praiseful. We have no reason not to be. The earth IS "young and sweet and fair" and we can get great joy from celebrating that.

This morning on my way walking from the parking lot to the gym, I happened to see on my right side a tiny little dandelion, smaller than any I had ever seen before in my life. It was only maybe an eigth of the size of a normal dandelion, but still was fully grown, with all those littly wispy white things placed perfectly in a circle. I picked it and took a breath and exhaled and set those petals free, whirling like in a tornado around me. It was incredibly beautiful and one of those things that just can't be described in words. But it did put a wide smile on my face out of sheer delight for nature's pleasures.

Photo: "Under a country sky we grow" by Susannah Tucker

(for more of her work check out: http://www.etsy.com/shop/susannahtucker)

Nothing left to hide.

"You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

When it comes down to it, I hope and pray that I can be a light to the world. That through my actions, my words, my demeanor, my smile, my ideals, I can leave the world a bit brighter than it would have been without me. Isn't that what we all want? If so, that why don't we act like it? I know I sure don't always smile, say kind words, give hugs when I should. But why not? What's stopping us? Fear? Denial? Judgement? But what's more powerful than all of those? Harmony. Peace. Kindness. Understanding. LOVE.

Here's a link for a beautiful song. A bit depressing and somber, but this is true feelings. It hits your heart for sure.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FUzDMDmHOoQ

Hope you have a happy, blessed evening. :)

We can

My words themselves have no power, but through my actions I believe the ideals that they stand for can change the world. I hope that the people I meet throughout my life will be touched by something in me, whether it's warmth and kindness, love, gratitude, peace, or grace, I want to stand for what I beleive in: that the world is made up of currents of goodness and righteousness, breaths of God himself, and that our actions naturally are swayed by these winds, these motions of harmony.

We cannot do it alone,
but together,
brothers,
sisters,
friends,
we CAN affect positive social change.
We CAN remind the world of gratitude and compassion.
We CAN, through our actions,
every
single
day,
change this cold, dormant planet
into a lush and beautiful
heaven of joy.

Freedom

Life seems bound
by regulations, judgements and expectations,
shackled by interpretations
so that when dusk falls like a rock
it shatters each day into a million fragmentations.
The only color an artist would use when painting
a still life of my present
is gray.
But I please and I curse,
I beg and I bleed;
I try to argue
time is more interesting spent living at the fray.
Need to add a palate of color to my day:
a splash of orange,
a touch of a brighter shade.
Beautifully misplaced
are the weeds,
serving no purpose, filling no needs.
Dandelions
a yellow spot lost in a green sea
have no hesitations,
they just grow free.
My life seems bound,
by the clouds,
by the bricks,
by your stones and your sticks.
Beautifully misplaced,
like a cold glass of sweet tea
in the middle of December,
like dreams shot by a rocket away into space,
searching for understanding,
in need of heavenly grace.