Khan's Castle

Basic truth: Life is hard

Center lost today,
Climb hill again, again
Mind only changed,
And all changed

Look in: Thoughts fall like oak leaves
Feel wind here, now there
Up, bare branch, sky behind
Truth is

Truth

Music's been a bit of fun again the last week or so, particularly the last couple of days. I've worked out the guitar parts to Tull's Cross-Eyed Mary, as well as reasonable rendition of the opening flute parts. I'm close on the closing flute lick, but can't play it fast enough, and I've let the solo alone—Hehe, imagine that. It's an old favorite of mine, a song that intimidated me for a long time as far as the guitar part goes. Nice to have gotten past that and knocked it off.

Tendonitis in my left elbow continues to bother me a bit. I felt it after playing guitar today. Not bad, just a light touch of pain at certain motions. The fact that those muscles—and thus the attached tendons—are in use a lot in daily life—even when the stress is low, they're in use—and my age is conspiring to make it heal slowly. I feel myself chomping at the bit to get back to some exercise; my training is telling me to accept the reality and chose my actions wisely.

The kids and I finished out Fullmetal Alchemist today, watching the last couple episodes in the afternoon. With fully fleshed characters and relationships, interesting plot, a nice overarching theme, and good animation, I really enjoyed this series, all thirteen DVD's, a lot. Noteworthy in my mind are the characters especially. There are a lot of them, and the story made me care about a lot more of them than I would have guessed. It's hard for me to imagine series anime getting much better than this.

A little happening just now:

In my room, I set the laptop on the bed so that I could write this very entry, or at least something in the blog tonight and alongside it, my new calculator, an HP-50g, that my company graciously provided me. Faced then with the choice of writing or playing around with my new toy, what did I do? I sat in zazen for almost 30 minutes. I was aware of the choice as it happened and wasn't sure if I had ever chosen, in a moment such as that, my spiritual practice over my toys or other interests.

It felt good. It felt right. I'm quietly happy about it.

Now, back to toys for a second. . .

The 50g is the latest in a long line of HP's I've owned over an almost 30 year span. Have I used them for all they'll do? Nah. Not even close, not even when I was in engineering school. But I've always been fascinated by the design and by them as a tool. So, earlier tonight, as I browsed for the reference guide online, I saw that HP has now introduced the 35s, a retro-style scientific that has BIG ENTER key back, something lost on recent models, something that HP geeks like me miss. So after getting this brand new widget, I find that I'm now lusting over yet another.

Now, there's something to meditate on!

Just that sort of thing can be an obsession and has been many times for me in the past and tonight I sit here sort of chuckling at myself: Sure, at some point, I may drop the $60 and pick one up or have my company buy it. But maybe not. I'd use it, as I do the others that I still own—a 41c, 41cv, 33s, 28s, 48g, 11c, 12c. It's a harmless sort of hobby: They're quiet and don't disturb the people around me. I can balance the heck out of a checkbook with them. They don't cost much in the adult scheme of things. The real thing is, though, I don't feel driven about them—or anything else for that matter—at all. That's where the difference is in life right now.

Freedom.

Peace

In this early autumn, winds have blown, snows threatened
Wrong turns taken, mistakes made, greed succumbed to, lies told

I look inside at reality

Past weighs heavy, future frightens
But now: Peace

Sunlight sparkles
Spiders draw threads through space
Trees green and turn, grass shoots tall

In this world I've hurt no one today

I have what I need

Peace

Grass fell done: quiet
Breathe Bassai in dappled shade
Spinning, blade alone

An attempt at a haiku to capture this moment:

After taking the hour or so the trim the tall stuff that grows around the pond, I was making the walk—a couple hundred yards—back to the house when it occurred to me: Do a kata, right here, right now, while it's so nice out. And so, having not done Bassai Dai—the Shuri Ryu version is a bit different than the Shotokan one shown in Wikipedia—in a few months and missing one move, I performed it again, there in the sunshine-dappled shade, the trimmer laying by the side of the road, its shoulder harness thrown over it. There's a turn where one spins not quite 180 degrees into a stance; I sometimes lose my balance a bit there when I'm out of practice and did this time. That and shoes making my feet heavy on heightened the moment, familiar movements welcoming me back on a beautiful day after a bit of honest work.

My respect for poets grows and grows.

I experienced a first in my life this morning: Netflix sent me an email saying that they're lowering the price of my plan! Probably not coincidentally, they were in the news the other day for not good reasons—falling stock, failing to grow this last quarter, not competing with Blockbuster's new online service, and a site crash—but still, I've very much enjoyed using their service. Perhaps they'll get it together a bit and carry on in a better way.

Zen is a different way of looking at the world. This quote—copied from Daily Zen—is illustrative:

In the stillness by the empty window
I sit in formal meditation
Navel and nose in alignment,
Ears parallel with shoulders.
Moonlight floods the room;
The rain stops, but the eaves drip and drip.
Perfect this moment;
In the vast emptiness, my understanding deepens.
- Ryokan (1758-1831)

Rambling, now. . .

I've walked through a few modern art exhibits and just wondered: What in the world is this all about? I went with a good friend in NYC to MOMA where many of the pieces we enjoyed quite a lot, some provoked thought, and some were seemingly senseless. The New Criterion has a nice piece by Roger Kimball that talks about the current state of affairs in the art world.

Over the weekend, my children built an old Lego kit that I had stashed away to keep its pieces from being mixed in with all the other ones we have. What fun they had! It's still set up and they've had hours of fun building it and then playing various pretend games with it. When I watch the imagination and creativity that is stimulated, along with the sheer fun they have with that stuff, I feel incredible joy for and with them.

Quiet thoughts this morning for people on their path. A couple Zen blogs—here, here, and here—catch my eye, echoing thoughts of silence.

My own silence this morning was broken by my flaring anger at my kids over nothing. I tried to re-center, they forgave and forgot, and the morning continued. I'm their student in that moment.

I stumbled across a couple musicians that, although I've only heard a tune or two by them, they're enough off the beaten path to be interesting. The link between the two is that they've both been guest artists on tour with Jethro Tull in the last couple years. Tinkara Kovac is a Slovenian flautist and singer. She plays a nice duet with Ian Anderson. It was nice to hear another flute player working in the pop/rock genre after all these years of Ian being the only one. Anna Phoebe is a violinist that plays a custom built six-string violin.

On Iraq, from the conservative side, Hanson has some thoughts about withdrawal.

I'm trying to read a little more on the liberal side of late and really have enjoyed a few columns at The New Republic. Sometimes the liberal view doesn't make too much sense to me in certain arenas, but I do enjoy a good writer's thoughtful analysis.

Just home after work the other night, my wife had passed me on the road less than a mile from the house. My son informed me that there was salmon for dinner. In a skillet, cooling after cooking, a salmon fillet sat, sauteed in tomatoes with spices—white and black peppercorns, whole cloves, rosemary, and cumin. Unusual, but nice and tasty. My wife is really a very good cook.

She gets home later that night, and tired, moves to put away the salmon that I had left out for her. Taking the lid off, container in hand, she says, "What's this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, all the spices in the salmon?"

"I still don't get it. What"?

"I didn't put those in there"?

"What?"

At that point my eight year old son stuck his head through the railing upstairs: "Hi, mom!"

My wife and I looked at each other. Then I looked up: "Say, kiddo, did you put all these spices in the salmon?"

A big grin. "Wasn't it, good, Dad?"

The Iraq debate carries on, the latest installment, I guess, being the debatathon in the Senate. I have my thoughts about it all, but I'm at a distance perhaps too detached, perhaps too ill informed to render a sound judgement. A couple questions come to mind on how to frame an answer to the question: Do we continue the war or not?


How about a scale of 1 to 5 on this small, non-comprehensive list of questions:


Does the war (1) help or (5) hurt US security?

I think about a 2 here. I think it hampers Al-Qaida and the like and ties up their resources just like it ties up ours.


Does the war (1) help or (5) world security?

I give it a 2 as well here for the same reasons.


Is world security (5) the job of the US or (1) not?

On practicality reasons and that of trade, I'll say 3. Among other things, we keep sea lanes open for shipping for everyone, basically because we're the only one with the navy to do it with.

Can the terroists (5) be negotiated with or (1) not?

Not even remotely: 1.


Is the goal of helping start democracy in Iraq the (5) right or (1) wrong goal?

I'll say 4 here, but note the Iraqis need to have the wherewithal to grab it and keep it once it's been made available and I wonder about that. If it were to take, it would be a very good thing. At that, though, I wonder about the cultural reality of that stance. I'm aware I'm operating in an idealistic mode on this one.


Is the war really (1) local to Iraq or, in fact, (3) regional, or even perhaps (5) worldwide?

I would actually say 4. I think it's certainly regional given Iran and Syria's involvement, but has tentacles extending worldwide—attacks in Europe, etc.


Do the terrorists want to take down the West because of (1) what we are, or (5) what we've done?

I think 4. Certainly the US is not lily white, but culturally, I think the Arab world hates the wealth and liberal culture that the West has produced as they watch themselves fail to adapt to modernity.


There are endless more questions; those just came to mind.

Tough problem.

Several thoughts have come to mind today, but not all at once. Which accounts for all these posts today. So be it.

Start at the bottom: You're doing something and you're not consciously aware of it. That's the real you. Next, if you become aware that you're doing it, your mind enters the picture and that's a level away from reality in awareness. If you then think about what you're doing, that's yet another level away. Those levels are discussed in writings on meditation.

Now consider this: You're watching someone on TV that is thinking about—and describing to you—what they're doing, but you're watching and don't really realize that you've latched onto some show. Then you realize it—tick, another level away. Now you're thinking about wasting your life away in front of the TV! Tick, you're now five levels away—at least—from true reality.

Thinking is something we do, not what we are. To get down to what we really are, we have to get our thinking minds out of the way. Zen strives to take us back down to that bottom level, to our natural selves, by doing just that.

My life has slowed down of late, several hobbies having dropped away. Most of my free time is spent in chores around home, time with the children, reading and meditating. Sometimes, something extra happens like the jam with friends, but the rhythm of life right now is steady. Life is good in this moment. I'm at peace in this moment.

After work, picking up a problem child
at the healer, I took a different route.

Not big highway this time, but old road through old town.
Big highway is fast, wide, it goes far places. Like
flying in a plane, land scrolls by unnoticed,
a blur on the periphery of the tunnel of attention on people before.
Old road strolls through old town, not so fast, but faster than walking.
Thirty five, not sixty five, not seventy.
Trees stand close and offer shelter: I glide by, cool shadows soothe.
Homes behind trees quietly observing passersby.
Evanescent memories drift into now.

I arrived forty years later than fifteen minutes ago.

I played some music with some friends—one I've known over 40 years—and discovered jamming again after a very long time. I think the difference was that we were experimenting with original ideas rather than cover tunes. I felt as creative that afternoon with my guitar as I ever have. Additionally, I played a little flute with them as well, a first for me. A really nice afternoon.

Zen, haiku, manga, anime: I must be turning part Japanese. I'll confess that things Japanese appeal to my sense of aesthetics and logic. The prime example for me is the elegant beauty and simplicity of Zen. To simply sit with whatever is in one's mind can be almost beyond words. It's something that isn't done in Western culture to any large degree: life moves too fast.

I'm glad I've slowed down a little.

A man lived his entire life just to make himself happy. Because of that, things that didn't cause him pain were of no concern.

People ask him to do things to help them out. They ask him to stop doing things that hurt them. Because he feels no pain, the requests go unanswered. People's situations become desperate and they become frantic in their requests of him, demanding even. This causes him pain and so he grudgingly responds, irritated that his serenity has been disturbed, oblivious as to why the people around him are so angry and hurt by his behavior.

People would talk to him about why they were hurt. That was unpleasant, so he resolved to change. Soon after the unpleasant talks were done, the pain of them disappeared and so, with no pain and nothing else to guide him, he set about his life as before, harming the same people who had ernestly entreated him to not to.

One morning, after talking with one of the people he had harmed, he wakes up and realizes what he's done.

Now what?

I'm not sure if I'm smiling or shaking my head about this piece of news from Spain. I'm really not.

Columnist John Derbyshire has some interesting things to say about the present state of culture in the US in light of a quote from Robert Heinlein. A thought provoking piece.

Oliver Kamm has a write-up about Japan's attitude of victimization at the New Republic.

Thinking of Heinlein takes me back to Junior High when I read my first science book, Citizen of the Galaxy. I had no way of knowing that it was widely regarded the best juvenile SF from the best writer in SF at the time, perhaps ever. Suffice it to say that it set a pretty high bar for all the other SF I read after that. I re-read it a while back and found I still like it a lot. I also re-read Hugo Award winning classic The Moon is a Harsh Mistress, enjoying it as much as the first time over thirty years ago.

Great tennis at Wimbledon today where Federer won his fifth in a row, tying Borg's—my favorite—record from '76 to '80. It's worth noting that if Nadal had won, he would have been the first player since—you guessed it—Borg in 1980 to win the French and Wimbledon in the same year. And Borg did it three times in a row. The event had a lot of people looking back and remember just how good Borg really was back then. I had never forgotten.

Enjoyed a couple movies over the last few days:

Blood Diamond was intense. Leonardo DiCaprio gave a fine performance in a gripping story that really makes me want to stay out of Africa.

Children of Men paints a very dark vision of the near future where no one in the world has been born for eighteen years. Clive Owen plays an interesting flawed hero in a harrowing story.

A good friend said something about poetry that really made me laugh: More people write poetry than read it. Having said that, I do very much admire nicely done things in small packages, whether poetry or anything else. Haiku certainly qualifies. I was thinking about my front yard this morning and this came to mind:

Crazy oak drops leaves,
Runs green with life, touches glass
Squirrel laughs: Tag, you're it

Just before zazen this morning, it occurred to me that for so long, I had been taught in the Christian church what to do but the how simply escaped me. I believe that I was my own stumbling block and wasn't ready until recently but also the how wasn't as much part of the teaching as it could have been. I have come to cherish the time I spend in prayer/meditation—and I write it that way, because the words are largely synonymous to me—so let me pass along a little of what I've learned.

Zazen is simple in concept: Find a posture in which breathing is not impeded. Clear the mind of deliberate thought. Keep it clear for the duration.

Doing it is difficult and it's noteworthy that it's always referred to as practice. I am only a beginner.

As for the body, I sit in seiza on a bench or sometimes in Burmese position on a zafu. Tilt the hips slightly forward so that the back is straight as if one is standing erect. In the very beginning, breathing seemed difficult to get right, but it seems to have taken care of itself with practice. Once settled in physically, if desired, breath counting can be used to give focus to keep the mind from wandering quite as much. Count on the exhale up to ten, then start over again at one. Repeat ad infinitum. I sit anywhere from 10 to 35 minutes or so.

For the mind, you can consider thoughts and images as a river. As they arise, simply don't engage them. Let them float away.

Shikantaza is the practice of the group I sit with once a week, but I think I need to go back to breath counting for a while yet to improve my concentration. When my concentration is good, my shikantaza is very satisfying, but I've had troubling keeping my mind still recently. Breath counting can be used to help in that regard.

I first read a book by Osho on Zen—I can't find the link on Amazon for it just now—and decided to give meditation a try. Robert Aitken's Taking the Path of Zen was then recommended and I found it very helpful. Writings on Zen by Thomas Merton and Willigis Jäger give a Christian point of view.

Thomas Friedman talks about modern living and the Internet in this article, noting that "we're all public figures now". He references a book about the phenomenon, the diversity of human behavior and "how" people do things. Very interesting.

Thomas Sowell has a way of just cutting through the baloney to the heart of the matter as he does here regarding taking the US for granted. I wish more people with voices thought like he does.

This piece by Sacha Zimmerman from the New Republic about Larry King's interview with Paris Hilton was dead on the money as far as I'm concerned and, additionally, speaks volumes about the public at large. As I read the description of Paris, I actually felt pity for her.

In trying to re-form a discipline of writing, just a small entry this morning. . .

Prayer and meditation were healing this morning, as they often have been since I started a few months ago. I've moved it from the evening most days to the morning to good effect and now what I find is that I'd like to get it in in the evening as well. For the first time in my life, I actually feel a genuine desire for a spiritual life and practice.

I'm reading a manga loaned me by a friend called Death Note—great title following a paragraph on spirituality, eh? Interesting plot line, I'll enjoy seeing how it develops.

And life rolls on. . .

I've been wearing toric contact lenses set up for mono-vision for a six or eight weeks now. The astigmatism correction makes them viable for me where spherical lenses gave a focus that was never quite sharp enough for reading. My eyes almost have the mono-vision aspect dialed in, too, so I'm pretty happy with them, especially to get my peripheral vision back.

After going through both seasons of Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex—loved it—the kids and I have moved on to Fullmetal Alchemist—loving it. We're about to start disk 7 of 13. If you like anime, or if you'd like to try it out, from what I've read, both series review very well and are quite popular and would be good places to start.

Fitness has been a struggle of late. Persistant tendonitis in my left elbow has me not wanting to work out for climbing at all. It's better, but I need to be sure it's gone before I start up again. Otherwise, I walk a bit at lunch, but that's it right now.

An article on the conservative side that I enjoyed: Bruce Thornton, a regular contributor to Hanson's web site, writes about The Passion of the Left. It has in it the assertion that, judging historically, the Vietnam war was basically won by the US military and then lost by Congress. I've seen that a couple different places and would be interested in seeing how that's reasoned out. Not that I disagree with it—I'm not informed enough on the matter—but that it runs counter to what so many of us were taught over the years when we were younger.

I googled quickly for "who won the vietnam war" and picked a couple articles. Here's one saying essentially what Thornton was saying. There are a couple of articles here and here saying that economically we won while having lost on the battlefield. What I don't like about the second two is that they ignore the events and brutality of the communist takeovers that succeeded the US withdrawal—as if the economic successes experienced later are actually equivalent to winning the war—and the Left's responsibility for pressuring for withdrawal. I do think there's a case to be made that had it not been for the extreme Left and Watergate, we were well on the way to winning the war militarily which would have been far preferable to what actually happened.

Again, on the conservative side—I don't often see much on the liberal side that appeals to me, but I try to be open-minded—Rich Lowry writes about the death of the recent immigration reform bill, mentioning that bloggers and talk radio hosts had a democratic effect in shutting down a bill that legislators wanted passed, essentially over the wishes of their constituents. He cites their picking apart of the bill and making parts of it known that would have otherwise gone unnoticed.

So, I decided to go see if I could find the text of the bill. It took me all of two minutes to find it right here, the whole thing right online for anyone to see on the Library of Congress Thomas website. What that means is that today, if you have a connected PC or can walk or crawl to a public library, you can read and at least attempt to have an informed opinion on any legislation as it is going through the Congress. I don't remember this actually being feasible before. I'm all for it.