Being a Yes-Sayer

I too want to be a yes-sayer to whatever comes. Reacting to external events with unhelpful emotions increasingly feels tedious, tiresome, and immature. Reactionless acceptance is beautiful. So is acceptance with a calm and compassionate smile.

I have a long way to go. 

I don't mean by this accepting bad things that are within my control to change. 

Realism

Life is a lot easier when you aren't trying to make reality conform to your ideology. Or, alternatively, it's a lot easier when you aren't spinning hard to create the appearance that it's your political opponent who's the one who lacks realism in contrast to your own (actually fake) realism. In your never-ending hell of competitive partisanship.

If it's true, you can say, "It's true." If it's false, you can say, "It's false." If the preponderance of the evidence is in a particular direction, you can say, "The preponderance of the evidence is in a particular direction." And so on. 

Then you can walk away and do something you enjoy, like having a cup of coffee. 

Good Night

Good night, world.

Europe

On June 2nd, I posted about my young dreams to live in Europe. I intended to criticize my youthful romanticism, but it may have sounded as if I were criticizing Europe.

I love & respect Europe. I think Europe's culture and people are fascinating. I respect all people.

Blanket Made of Stars

I wanna sleep on the hard ground

In the comfort of your arms

On a pillow of bluebonnets

In a blanket made of stars

Oh, it sounds good to me!

*          *          *          *          *         *         *

It sounds good to me, too. Or horseback riding in Mongolia or Wyoming.

.

Example Fail

I'm good at some things, bad at other things, by nature. 

I've been okay at some things I tried to do, bad at other things I tried to do.

Some people saw the things that I was okay at and looked to me perhaps as an example or reference point for improving their own behavior. They were doing well. Then I opened my mouth, said something stupid, and ruined it. 

I feel too inadequate to be an example. I resent it. But if people are going to use me as a reference point, whether I like it or not, I think I have no choice but to make sure my speech and behavior aren't such as to cause other people to go astray. 

Approximately Forever Blog on Grudges

Great post from the Approximately Forever blog on grudges. A very good read.

Shrine to a Dragon

Korea is mostly mountains--short, steep ones. This makes for lots of compact and cozy valleys. Sometimes, where the mountains narrow together, there are ravines. 

There had been a heat wave last week. Yesterday, it broke. This morning the air was fresh and breezy. While hiking in the afternoon, I followed a path to a mineral spring, a place inside a ravine with natural rock walls. You could look up from this shady spot and see the sun shining on the trees well above you. 

Later, I followed a road--a tree-lined road--from the shoreline up a cozy valley. All was intense blue and intense green. I remembered why I love summer. There were sunflowers along the way, some with their heads bowed under their own weight. Others still small, perky, and upright. There were terraced rice fields, with almost fluorescent green rice plants of uniform height in uniform rows. By afternoon, the temperature had risen enough to create shimmery mist which added to the perfect summeriness of the experience. 

There, walking up the road, I encountered a shrine to a mountain god. You had to walk back from the road, across a neatly-maintained lawn, and up a series of stone steps. The shrine was for a dragon who protected the coast in past times from marauding invaders. There was a bowl of sand in which you could stick sticks of incense as offerings. You could see the burnt remains of a few sticks in the sand. There was a small stack of paper bills that people had left as monetary offerings. I bowed and went back down to the road, where there was a bus stop.

I thought I would take the bus back home. The shrine is a long way from my house. But the bus stop was for a single rural bus that only came at long intervals. I waited and waited. The longer I waited, the more I wanted to go back to the shrine one more time before going home, but if I did so, the bus might come while I was up the hill. Finally, I decided to walk back home. Walking and exercise were after all, my main purposes for being out there in the first place. So, I went back to the shrine, gave the dragon my bus fare as an offering, bowed again, this time much more formally and properly, then started off for home on foot. I just got back about an hour ago. 

I don't have any pictures, unfortunately. I was lazy and didn't charge my phone last night. 

I hope this summer day or night in July 2014 finds you safe, happy, and well. 

Lots of love from Korea,

T. 

I didn't exist, I did exist, I won't exist

I didn't exist. I did exist. Someday I won't exist. I have no cares.

So Happy & So Alive

 Ovid:

How greatly does a man disgrace himself,

how impiously does he prepare himself

for shedding human blood, who with a knife

cuts the calf's throat and offers a deaf ear

to its death-longings! who can kill the kid

while it is sending forth heart rending cries

like those of a dear child; or who can feed

upon the bird which he has given food.

How little do such deeds as these fall short

of actual murder? Yes, where will they lead?

Calves playing in a YouTube video, so happy to be alive.

Neptune

I think it's a nightclub. It's cute.

How Everything May Be Done Acceptably to the Gods

From the Discourses of Epictetus. Look up, not down:

When some one asked, How may a man eat acceptably to the gods, he answered: If he can eat justly and contentedly, and with equanimity, and temperately, and orderly, will it not be also acceptable to the gods? But when you have asked for warm water and the slave has not heard, or if he did hear has brought only tepid water, or he is not even found to be in the house, then not to be vexed or to burst with passion, is not this acceptable to the gods? How then shall a man endure such persons as this slave? Slave yourself, will you not bear with your own brother, who has Zeus for his progenitor, and is like a son from the same seeds and of the same descent from above? But if you have been put in any such higher place, will you immediately make yourself a tyrant? Will you not remember who you are, and whom you rule? That they are kinsmen, that they are brethren by nature, that they are the offspring of Zeus? But I have purchased them, and they have not purchased me. Do you see in what direction you are looking, that it is towards the earth, towards the pit, that it is towards these wretched laws of dead men? but towards the laws of the gods you are not looking.

A Song for Concordia

I dedicate this song to Concordia.

We can work it out!

Just Lovely

The very first paragraph of Meditations, by Marcus Aurelius:

Of my grandfather Verus I have learned to be gentle and meek, and to refrain from all anger and passion. From the fame and memory of him that begot me I have learned both shamefastness and manlike behaviour. Of my mother I have learned to be religious, and bountiful; and to forbear, not only to do, but to intend any evil; to content myself with a spare diet, and to fly all such excess as is incidental to great wealth. Of my great-grandfather, both to frequent public schools and auditories, and to get me good and able teachers at home; and that I ought not to think much, if upon such occasions, I were at excessive charges.

Goddess of Harmony

This is a photograph, from Wikipedia, of the statue of Concordia that sits in the Schlossplatz in Stuttgart. This statue can be seen on the left side in the banner photograph at the top of Stuttgart's homepage. 

I'm not sure what this artist intended--be it a deliberate representation of Concordia, or a representation of a fictional character inspired by Concordia. In any case, it is a lovely picture and captures the soothing touch of harmony and peace in a conflict-torn environment.

A song by Diamond Rio about harmony. 

Nerd Supremacists

Everyone, I presume, has to pass through a period or periods of adulthood in which they reconcile themselves with their childhood and the things that happened to them. 

During that time, I would also presume, among other things, they would be self-aware of the high school clique with which they identified, if their high school had such things, and would turn it over in their minds frequently and talk about it often.

I also think it's natural and fun to joke about one's former clique identity in a lighthearted and fun way that shows it no longer matters.

One thing I find questionable, however, is nerd triumphalism. That is, people gloating and salivating over this or that piece of information that shows how nerds are more successful and "jocks" less so. 

Resentment is natural; at some point, it becomes unhealthy. 

Let's root for everyone. 

Here's a story: I was well into deep depression in high school. This means I didn't have a normal social life. In fact, I was outside of every single clique. Off the top of my head, I can think of three instances in which someone reached out to me. One of the people was a "nerd". One was a "jock". And one was a cheerleader. 

Naegleria Fowleri Q & A

Questions and answers about the 'brain-eating' amoeba found in fresh water in the United States, Australia, and elsewhere, from the Queensland department of public health. 

The fact sheet notes that the rate of infection in the USA is five cases per one billion episodes of recreational water activity. But since infections occur when water ends up in one's nose, and there are many recreational water activities where water is not likely to end up in one's nose, I think this figure is slightly misleading. 

Letter 48

The stirring quote from Seneca:

Would you really know what philosophy offers to humanity? Philosophy offers counsel. Death calls away one man, and poverty chafes another; a third is worried either by his neighbour's wealth or by his own. So-and-so is afraid of bad luck; another desires to get away from his own good fortune. Some are ill-treated by men, others by the gods. Why, then, do you frame for me such games as these? It is no occasion for jest; you are retained as counsel for unhappy mankind. You have promised to help those in peril by sea, those in captivity, the sick and the needy, and those whose heads are under the poised axe. Whither are you straying? What are you doing? 

This friend, in whose company you are jesting, is in fear. Help him, and take the noose from about his neck. Men are stretching out imploring hands to you on all sides; lives ruined and in danger of ruin are begging for some assistance; men's hopes, men's resources, depend upon you. They ask that you deliver them from all their restlessness, that you reveal to them, scattered and wandering as they are, the clear light of truth. Tell them what nature has made necessary, and what superfluous; tell them how simple are the laws that she has laid down, how pleasant and unimpeded life is for those who follow these laws, but how bitter and perplexed it is for those who have put their trust in opinion rather than in nature.

Eventful Weekend

Yesterday, thanks to my friend and language coach, I was able to give a speech in Korean, for which I undeservedly got a ribbon. I also went to a seminar and learned some great tips for my officer position at Toastmasters. I met a photographer from Iran and a teacher from the United States. The photographer said that Persian poetry is the best in the world. That was a cute boast. 

My Toastmaster friends went out for meat, twice--for lunch and for dinner. I just decided to be social, and put people first. It was a little sad and creepy to put parts of animal's corpse in my mouth, but at least no one was put out or inconvenienced by me.

Today I went up the coast a ways. There was no wind, so the sea was glassy, placid, and reflective--perhaps unearthly so, if I had stopped my thought train and let it fill my mind. But I didn't. 

A group of elderly women asked me to sit with them to chat, but I was too shy and unconfident about my Korean. 

I walked out on a long pier designed for tourists. You could look back and see the hills backlit by the setting sun. 

I thought about Scipio Africanus praying to Jupiter for hours. I was going to pray to Concordia for an hour. But I didn't do that either. 

Martin Hellman Discusses Per-Year Risks of a Nuclear Event

Important reading from Professor Hellman on the per-year or per-ten year risk of a nuclear event.

Thank Goodness

I'm not a priestess of Vesta, but I think I acted like a real one just now, as I understand it.

It's hard not to cry tears of relief and joy.

Practice Composition in French 1

Ca fait 20 ans, cette annee, en septembre, que j'ai allee en france pour etudier le francais. Apres j'ai retournee aux Etats-Unis, je n'ai pas etudiee du tout. On peut dire que si je ne continue pas d'etudier, c'est pas un bon choix. C'est vrai, j'ai devenue un peu vieux. C'est vrai, beaucoup de temps est passe. Mai, j'espere, quand meme, si j'etudie regulierement, que je pourrais apprendre encore une fois les chose dont j'ai appris en 1994. J'espere aussi que je peux apprendre les chose nouvelles, et, a l'avenir, un bon sens de la langue francaise. 

Au'jourd hui, ici, l'exercice est a ecrire sans utilisant le dictionnaire. Bien sur, il y aura beaucoup de fautes. 

J'espere que vous etes hereux et que vous passez une nuit calme.

A Good Bossa Nova Station

This is a great bossa nova station. 

It's the rainy season here. It doesn't really rain during the rainy season like it used to. However, it's raining tonight. Listening to raindrops and bossa nova is a nice way to spend a summer evening.

Wishing you style, understatement and good company on this night in July, 2014. 

Work, Tuccia!

Move, Tuccia! There's work to be done!

I know, life passes by the person preoccupied with tasks. 

I have a different view. It's this: Life is entropy. Things fall apart of their own accord. Therefore, part of living is to hold things together. This doesn't mean merely preserving what already exists in a static world. The ground shifts underneath, so new projects and plans are required if one aims "to hold things together". 

The other option is die prematurely, which is not my choice.

Note that this isn't an ideology or a religious belief. It's a few steps of reasoning drawn from basic facts about life. 

These facts exist whether I rise to their challenge or not. My failure would prove them just as much as my success. 

The Piper at the Gates of Dawn

I got this from Wikipedia, which says that it is in the public domain, and therefore publishable here. It's said to be from the 1913 edition of The Wind in the Willows. 

"The Piper at the Gates of Dawn" was also apparently the name of Pink Floyd's first album. 

Sylvia Plath's Faun

I can't see where I ever posted Sylvia Plath's poem, Faun. I believe it's from her journals. The link is here. 

But! If you read any poem from Sylvia Plath's journals, I recommend this one! I couldn't stop re-reading it in university. Sylvia Plath was one of my heroes back then.

In the ramshackle meadow where Kilroy would pass lurks the sickle-shaped shadow of snake in the grass.  

I Got Angry

I got angry. Twice. Yesterday and today. 

My first feeling about this is disappointment in myself. But, I think there's a better way to think about it:

(1) I get angry less often than ever before. Focus on the steps forward, not the steps back, and keep going. 

(2) I almost never get angry or irritated at little things anymore--spills, traffic, etc. This is real progress. Keep going.

(3) When I get angry now, it dissipates within minutes. I used to brood. I used to dwell. Looking back from this vantage point, brooding and dwelling seem positively unwholesome. Keep going.

(4) When I get angry now, it feels more like a temporary sickness, something dirty. When I got angry in the past, there was this self-righteous feeling that went with it, which is hard to imagine now. Keep going.

Children's Common Sense About Eating Animals

I saw this through Facebook. It's an Upworthy video. 

I don't necessarily trust any video I happen to see on the Internet. It's in Portuguese, and I can't even tell if the English captions are an accurate translation. Not knowing anything about the video, I couldn't even guarantee that it's not in some sense staged, or the child hasn't in some sense been prepped or primed to say these things.

Still, even from a skeptical standpoint, it is absolutely fantastic. Turn on English captions by clicking on the little rectangle at the bottom right, next to the "settings" gear-shaped wheel.

Compassion Is Available to All Just by Thinking

Seneca, while contending that memorizing historical trivia is useless, notes:

Perhaps you will permit someone to be interested also in this—the fact that Lucius Sulla was the first to exhibit loosed lions in the Circus, though at other times they were exhibited in chains, and that javelin-throwers were sent by King Bocchus to despatch them? And, doubtless, [knowing facts like this] too may find some excuse—but does it serve any useful purpose to know that Pompey was the first to exhibit the slaughter of eighteen elephants in the Circus, pitting criminals against them in a mimic battle? He, a leader of the state and one who, according to report, was conspicuous among the leaders of old for the kindness of his heart, thought it a notable kind of spectacle to kill human beings after a new fashion. Do they fight to the death? That is not enough! Are they torn to pieces? That is not enough! Let them be crushed by animals of monstrous bulk! Better would it be that these things pass into oblivion lest hereafter some all-powerful man should learn them and be jealous of an act that was nowise human.

The emphasis is mine. The passage is taken from a version of On the Shortness of life, here. This sounds thoroughly modern, doesn't it? 

I would say that "modern" isn't quite it. It's not that Seneca was ahead of his time. It sounds so familiar, like something we would say, because it's timeless. People from any era could 'get it' because it appeals intuitively to our basic humanity. 

Compassion is available to all just by thinking, regardless of the fashions or trends of the historical era in which we find ourselves, regardless of the religion or philosophy whose label we attach to ourselves, and so forth--all of those things that we buy into unnecessarily as constraints on our hearts and minds.

A Rock Song About Faunus

I think I must read The Wind in the Willows, published in 1908. A kindly Pan makes an appearance in Chapter 7, entitled, "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn". Like some of E.M. Forster's work, it's a little bit of a Chronicles of Narnia for classical religions:

Perhaps he would never have dared to raise his eyes, but that, though the piping was now hushed, the call and the summons seemed still dominant and imperious. He might not refuse, were Death himself waiting to strike him instantly, once he had looked with mortal eye on things rightly kept hidden. Trembling he obeyed, and raised his humble head; and then, in that utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with fullness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern, hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on them humourously, while the bearded mouth broke into a half-smile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad chest, the long supple hand still holding the pan-pipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward; saw, last of all, nestling between his very hooves, sleeping soundly in entire peace and contentment, the little, round, podgy, childish form of the baby otter. All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered.

'Rat!' he found breath to whisper, shaking. 'Are you afraid?'
'Afraid?' murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. 'Afraid! Of HIM? O, never, never! And yet—and yet—O, Mole, I am afraid!'
Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.

Van Morrison wrote a song about it. 

You might object: This isn't classical religion. It's modernism, humanism, romanticism, and writers who were immersed in the classics, such that it naturally came out in their writing. I would disagree. Formative influences are not to be confused with the thing itself, and the reinterpretation of a religious spirit or religious forms under later cultural and historical conditions is what humans do. Think of all the sects of Christianity, from St. Thomas's church in India in the first century to contemporary megachurches with rock bands. Yet, we group the multitude of those sects from all time periods and places within the same broad label. So, to dismiss this too readily as not being classical religion is, in my view, an error. 

This Magical Life

An American friend of several years dropped by Seoul after a business trip to Japan, and we spent the afternoon and evening together on Saturday. I wanted more than anything that she feel like the center of attention in her Seoul experience. I spent Sunday afternoon with an old Korean friend and Sunday evening with another old Korean friend. We have a lot of memories together. I love to chat with them about our shared memories.

I want all my friends to feel awash in human warmth and friendliness. It makes me so happy if I sense that I might have succeeded.

Saturday night, after my friend had gone into her hotel, I had the most magical walk downtown, through a forest of brightly-lit tall buildings, elevated outdoor large-screen televisions, and electronic signs. You might stop, look about you in wonder, hold your palms out, as if some of it might float down and land in your hands. 

I met a kind taxi driver who had been born in the city of Andong. He complimented my bad Korean. 

Today, after work, I listened to frogs by a patch of woods and took photos of the lights reflected in the water at the beach.

Listen to this beautiful song. 

Rewrite

I woke up way too early and can't go back to sleep. I re-read my last post and I don't like the way I wrote it. Oh, well. I'm just gonna let it go!

Pretty Urbanscapes

There's no requirement that need be bought into that any particular place be subject to negative aesthetic judgment for being a certain type of place--most famously, urban. 

How lucky you are if you get serendipitously lost in a forest of of tall buildings. Beyond the urban rural duality, urban landscapes throb with life. By this I mean that feeling of the magic of existence and the suchness of particular things in the world--the texture of sidewalk bricks, the shift in tone when light is reflected by less-than-glossy surfaces, the intense geometry all about you, the randomness of which apartments have lights on, each one saying, "I'm a human space," and you can imagine the human sounds and atmosphere that must prevail in each one, the laughter, the smell of laundry detergent, of cooking food, TV voices, and so on. 

Pretty urban landscapes are a reason to love being alive. 

I pray to Concordia for harmony between all people. Good night. 

Good Night World

I kept a candle lit for the world for ten minutes. It was a real honor. 

It's just past one a.m. My window is open. There's the far away sound of the highway, but all else is still. There's no wind. I can see some lights from some buildings maybe half a kilometer away. All the lights in the night are silent and steady. 

Looking out my window before going to bed on an ordinary night in July, 2014.

Best wishes to you, world. Good night! 

Seoul

A friend is coming to Korea for the weekend on her way back home from a business trip to Japan. I get to play tour guide and host, and it's a great deal of fun.  I spent the morning searching for a hotel she might like. I think I found one. There's a lot to say about Seoul's hotel culture, but I'll stop here.

Have a classy day or night, wherever you might be. 

Lots of love,

T

Good Night

An air conditioner at work was dripping, and when I arrived, there was a big puddle in that room. My schedule doesn't overlap exactly with my coworkers', so I was the only one there. As I was mopping it up, I saw a bug floating on his back, his little legs struggling in the air. He was about the size of a penny. I think he was an aphid. He looked like he was drowning. I cupped him with my hands, took him outside, and up the hill, to where there is a little park. I tried to set him on the grass, near some bushes, but as I did so, he took flight. That was a really great moment!

It's not the only thing that happened today. But it's the thing I'm most proud of.

I hope this song warms your heart.

Good night from Asia,
T.  

First Fruits for the Goddess of Mercy (Morning Offering)

A full stick of incense, my favorite Korean coffee, my favorite Korean power bar, and my favorite American chocolate for Clementia, the goddess of mercy. I pray that all people and animals be free from suffering and harm on this day in early July, 2014. 

Sloppy

My blog posts have been kind of sloppy. I'll try to keep them plain, straightforward, and not messy. I changed the "outcome" section of the Stanton v. Sims post to a numbered list. I hope that makes it clearer than when everything is mushed together in a single paragraph.

The Dachshund

He hadn't been run over, but he seemed to have been struck by something with a great deal of force, which Dr. Ferreira surmised to be an object attached to a moving vehicle. One couldn't rule out other possibilities, such as malicious people, to be sure, but he had been found on the side of the road, a main road that ran past the entrance of a gated community, one without a sidewalk and usually lacking in pedestrian traffic. The vehicle explanation just seemed more likely. It was nighttime, and the woman who had brought him in had been returning from a social event well past ten o'clock. 

"It was just by sheer luck that I saw the little guy. I couldn't even tell it was an animal. It just looked like something by the curb," she reported. "You know, I have very bad night vision," which was such a commonplace thing to say it made Sophia briefly suspicious that she was actually the one who had hit the dachshund. She scrutinized the computer screen, reflexively avoiding eye contact after what seemed like the woman's confession. Sophia had just come out of three hours of surgery assisting Dr. Ferreira and the final thing remaining to do was to open a case file in the computer for the dog. 

There was the liar's game of unexpected frankness. A crude lie avoids the truth. A sophisticated lie incorporates the truth. But, no. Sophia looked up. The woman was a sweetheart, and what an ugly thing, if a good samaritan were to endure Sophia's suspicion. Anyway, even if she had hit the dachshund, anyone's who's had a license for more than a few years has a story about either hitting an animal by accident or nearly missing hitting an animal by accident. At least, if she did hit it, unlike so many other people, she had had the compassion to call Dr. Ferreira's emergency veterinary clinic, bring the dog in in the middle of the night, and even stay until 3:30 a.m. when the surgery wrapped up.  

"Thank you sooooo much, Anne. For calling us. For bringing him in. For staying until the surgery was all done. What a lucky little dachshund that someone as big hearted as you came along when you did." Dr. Ferreira had given Sophia permission to leave after the next assistant, Jim, arrived at six a.m. Before she left, she looked in one more time on the dachshund. No collar. No tags. No computer chip. No known name. He was lying on his side and breathing under sedation. A little brown ear was folded underneath itself.  Sophia unfolded it for him. His soft brown eyes were half closed. What awful misfortune to be such a lovely little animal in such a vicious world, she thought. 

It was Sunday, and after sleeping till twelve-thirty, Sophia sat up in bed and made a rather groggy phone call to Jim to ask about the dachshund's condition. Jim had unpromising news. The dog's temperature was slightly higher than expected, his heart rate was elevated more than expected and his blood pressure was lower than it should have been, which suggested there might still be internal bleeding.  Dr. Ferreira was coming in at two to make a decision about whether to operate again. When the dachshund had arrived at the veterinary hospital, before being sedated, he had been making high-pitched sounds that were halfway between terror and pain. Upon being brought through the operating room doors his whole body had started to tremble uncontrollably. 

Sophia lay back in bed and let the tears come. She was lying prone, so the tears went down the sides of her temples and pooled in her ears. She could still hear the dachshund's terrified cries in her mind. Two medical workers and a kindly elderly woman alone in a deserted veterinary clinic in the middle of the night trying to save a dog's life. It was conventional wisdom in medical settings not to get overly attached to patients, human or otherwise. It didn't help that she was exhausted. Through her tears, she said a silent prayer for all suffering animals and people. 

A little later, she would get up and do her work for the day. Much later, the dog would survive--or it wouldn't. She would cry for other animals, but mostly not. She would be a little bit stronger, with each passing year, and she would help them.

Family

Family are a group of people who are together for a short time but who ultimately get separated if not by distance, then by death.

The point isn't to be negative for the sake of being negative. It's to recognize this true fact, try to have a prepared mind regarding it, as far as possible, and to find a more authentic happiness that doesn't rely on ignoring it.