I arrived in this place because for months I have been feeling locked up, disconnected- out of myself. I'm not sure when this happened or why- but I have this sense of watching myself from a far away place.
In my life of rushing, with constant demands on my time (self-imposed or otherwise), it has become clear that I need an outlet, a place for contemplation, reflection- time. I need to reconnect, open, evolve- participate. Ironic to me that like many others, I've chosen to turn to the chaotic, overwhelming internet as a place for peaceful reflection.
So here I am- trying to write freely without worry about perfection, judgment, rejection (or run on sentences!) as I work to cultivate connection.
______________
This poem has been haunting me for weeks. I first found it years ago- in a magazine somewhere. I wrote it out and tacked it to the wall of my "aparto" in rural Japan. The words grounded me a gave me a lot of solace. That paper is probably tucked into some folder, stashed away and forgotten. Until now. It found me again and continues to resonate.
It is I who must begin.
Once I begin, once I try --
here and now,
right where I am,
not excusing myself
by saying things
would be easier elsewhere,
without grand speeches and
ostentatious gestures,
but all the more persistently
-- to live in harmony
with the "voice of Being," as I
understand it within myself
-- as soon as I begin that,
I suddenly discover,
to my surprise, that
I am neither the only one,
nor the first,
nor the most important one
to have set out
upon that road.
Whether all is really lost
or not depends entirely
on whether I am lost.
~ Vaclav Havel ~
1 comment:
How interesting that this poem has come to visit you again now. I first cross paths with it on October 4, 2002, on a wall about 12 hours southwest of Fukuoka, in a place like none other-mountains bursting straight out of the ocean as if an entire city lies just beneath the surface-truly a place where any one could lose one's way. The poem spoke to me so much at the time-a very tumultuous time-and I immediately copied it into my journal. On the opposite page is this:
"I've begun to think about what it is that makes us such good friends...I made a mention about how no one gets my jokes sometimes, and how it was nice to have her here for that."
Sure, the random musings of a 22-year old boy running amok in Japan, but in asking if we are lost, if all is lost, and if we are all only on parallel but solitary journeys, isn't it comforting to know that there are those who just get our jokes?
Much love always, 恵奈ちゃん
~Andrew
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