I had been proud of my awareness, aware of my pride, and proud of that awareness again. It went on like this: How clever I am that I know I am so stupid, how stupid I am to think that I am clever, and how clever I am that I am aware of my stupidity etc.
— Janwillem van de Wetering, The Empty Mirror: Experiences in a Japanese Zen Monastery
Quote: Thank you Beth @ Alive on All Channels. Image Source: Zen Masters
Twilight. August 7, 2020. 5:32 am. 67° F. Cloud Cover: 86%. The Cove, Stamford, CT.
90+ min walk. 100+ photos.
It was Amateur Hour (or hour and a half).
Hand shake. Blurry shots. Crooked shots. Underexposed shots. Overexposed shots. Dark light. Bad light.
Rain drops on lens. No pink or orange hues lighting up the cove. Dense cloud cover.
Hide tide. Birds in hiding.
But…
as I rounded the corner at Cove Island Park, there it was. The American Flag. Softly flapping in the breeze. I pause to watch… listening to its rustling, as it folded and unfolded. No press briefings. No shameless politicians.
Just the American flag, the silence of the daybreak and me. And an intense and overwhelming feeling of gratitude for this Country and it’s great people…and what you all have given my family and me.
He arrived on time. At the end of a 14-hour day. I’m bushed.
This day, which was preceded by five hours sleep on an alien mattress, which was preceded by a late night dinner, which included one oversized slice of home made peach pie (à la mode of course), and this was chased with a s’more. Yes, a S’more, you read right. With a home made golden graham cracker at its base, topped with a thin slice of Swiss chocolate, and a giant, home made marshmallow, with the waiter cautiously holding the blow torch as the sugar crackled and blackened into a light char. Three bites, and it disappeared. A sugar addict with his fix, floating lightly above the table, abstaining from my dinner guests’ chatter, floating higher, higher, up and up in his delirium.
I slide into the back seat.
“How was your day Sir?”
I’m not in the mood for banter. Please, please, get me to the hotel. A long hot shower. Room service (sans S’mores). And early to bed.
“Great, thank you.” A.K. Benjamin’s passages dripping in and out of consciousness: “Studies have shown that your generation, our generation, lies on average two or three times every ten minutes, men to make themselves look better, women to feel good.” And he’s right.
I did not counter to ask him about his day. A direct signal that this door was not open for chatter.
“Would you like a bottle of water?”
“No, but thank you for asking.”
I pull out my smartphone, drop my head, emitting another direct signal of non-engagement. I glance up and see his eyes in the rear view mirror. Tension rises in the cabin. He picks up on the body language: This guy is shut down.
He has a teddy bear on the console. Rainbow colored. Odd. [Read more…]
It’s uncomfortable because you’re never going to be an expert in every field. I’m not the best director and I’m not the best musician – and I don’t think I will ever be – but at least there is a little country in between where I can be the king. It’s probably going to be a small country, but at least I can live there happily…
I think that pressure of wanting to absolutely succeed precisely on the one thing is very toxic. I do want to succeed in general, but I’ve been asking myself, “What is success really to you?” And I’ve been thinking a lot about it and I think that success to me is to manage to be free, but also to do things that I like. It seems very stupid, but at the end of the day if I completely like and am proud of what I do, then to me it’s success.
~ Yoann Lemoine, “I’m not there yet” (Director of Woodkid)
Notes:
10 hour car ride. In Both directions. In three days. Why drive, when you can fly?
Fighting traffic to airport. Finding parking in overflowing lots. Standing in interminable TSA security lines. Hard-back molded plastic seats, waiting. Delays. Waiting to board. Fighting for overhead bin space. No open seats. No legroom. Non-reclining seats. Unclean arm rests and seat tray tables. Claustrophobia. Acrophobia. And then, the other side. Waiting to deplane. Waiting for luggage. Dragging luggage to car rental, more waiting. And, then, a one-hour drive to Winston-Salem.
But “that” wasn’t it.
There was only this option, for this could be the last road trip with Family. Road trips with Family. McDonalds. Dad trying to make time, foot heavy on accelerator. Tummies full of soda, unscheduled bathroom breaks at highway rest stops. The Karaoke. The arm signals to Truckers urging a pull on the deep throaty air horns. The honking in tunnels. The spilled milkshakes. The spats in the back seat. Are we there yet? Budget hotels with swimming pools, had to have a swimming pool. Single rooms, twin beds with too-soft mattresses, undersized bathrooms, always two towels short. The thrill of Room Service. Kids petering out, little bodies sleeping side by side, their gentle puffs of breath, gone dreaming.
I turn my head to the window to look out at the rolling Blue Ridge Mountains, I wipe the tears, and step on the accelerator. Like a firework in the face. Accept our gratitude for the promise of a next chapter in life. And a next. And a next.¹
Graduation Day. [Read more…]
Through pride we are ever deceiving ourselves.
But deep down below the surface of the average conscience
a still, small voice says to us,
something is out of tune.
~ Carl Gustav Jung
Credits: Quote – Thank you Eclecticity. Photograph: eikadan
Note to self: I haven’t read any Harry Potter books. Is there a deeper theme here? Isn’t “Perserverance” misspelled? (Blushing now…likely exposing my ignorance.)
Source: Pottermore House Pride adapted from Themetapicture.
Live & Learn 