Two years ago, in the middle of the night, I wrote these words.
At the time, certain things had slipped beyond my control, leaving me restless and unable to sleep. That feeling still rises from time to time. Fortunately, returning to these lines has a way of bringing me back to some measure of calm.
On countless days, I have felt invincible— a chosen child of heaven.
On just as many others, I have felt insignificant, as insubstantial as dust.
After thirty-two years of living, and after lingering at the edge of existential philosophy, I had convinced myself that my inner world was strong enough to withstand any disturbance.
But noise is noise.
In the dead of night, it comes rushing from every direction.
Eventually, I stopped resisting. I became one with the noise, letting the two of us compose the notes of whatever future might come.
They say human troubles all begin with human relationships. If this world contained no one but me, would trouble disappear? I don't believe it would.
Would a world inhabited by a single person be a utopia? I don't know. People long to be understood, yet they also want to remain singular and apart. We want freedom, but we also find a certain reassurance in rules and discipline.
Thinking wears us down. Comfort leaves us hollow. Human beings are remarkably difficult to satisfy.
How is a heart made hard enough to endure? Does strength grow from the inside outward, or from the outside inward? Where does a person's energy come from? Is a firmly held conviction enough?
Stubborn old fool.
Or is it enough to listen when others offer advice?
A reed bending with every wind.
Tai chi, balance, and the middle way run through everything. Even a twisted fried dough stick seems to contain one of the world's clearest truths: pure black and pure white do not exist. The true color of this world is a hazy gray.
Should I love another person, or love myself?
To love another is to love oneself; to love oneself is to love another.
Is it life or death?
Life contains death, and death contains life.
Where does human energy come from? It requires both resilience generated from within and the ability to gather energy from the universe around us.
We are born for the very things for which we will one day die. Life and extinction keep changing places, without end.
So how does one stand in the middle of a whirlpool without being swept away?
A few close friends. One battered life.
Feet planted firmly on the ground, while keeping one's sights on something far away.
Do what can be done, then leave the rest to fate.
Walk along the border between life and death. Linger where black meets white. Love others while loving yourself. Twist and turn like a rope of dough.
In the gray sea, thrash and rise like a dragon; sweep upward and downward as though the world were empty of obstacles.
Perhaps that is what it means to be a sage.
—May 2024
