A theory on theory (1)

There are a lot of theories in the world; Some of them I understand, some of them I don’t. Some of them I can agree with, some of them I won’t. On some of them I’ve spent some time thinking and some don’t get a second thought. Being more of a practical nature I have no theory of my own and I’m not partial to any that were offered up to me, but I wondered how I weigh theories. Well, for lack of a better word, here’s my theory.

With any theory, when it’s new to me, I start by listing and looking for the thought process. Because these thoughts are new to me, hardly any of my old thoughts come into play, I used to think this was because I was a dummy, but I changed my mind on that theory. As soon as I find the thread of the theory, I start to feel my way around, following the thread. Almost like I’m trying to find my way around a ship blindfolded by holding on to the banister, this is just the first step. When I can’t feel the basic outline, I’ll leave it. But when I can feel the outline I take the next step. Step two is taking off the blindfold and try to make out were bow and stern are and the big elements, like where’s the anchor, and what drives the engine. If my instinct tell me this could be a save ship, that this theory has some buoyancy I’ll take step three and try to find out as much detail as I can, almost like a small child questioning everything; What is this? Why is this? And how come...? Then the big test; does it stay afloat in rough seas, if it does, I’ll add this theory to my fleet, cause a ship is a ship and if it’s able to navigate through rough weather it’s fine by me.

But when you ask, I can tell you nothing theoretically about any of these theories, I’ll mix them up even trying to think about them. What I can tell you is my experience sailing any of my ships and how they hold up in rough weather.

Process vs. Result

After thought.
I’m not very result driven, in fact I have a hard time finishing what I start. But I’m a sucker for process, I jump at any change of finding out how something works, be it a machine, how artichokes are grown, a hat is made or how mind works. Process is what makes me tick. I stay away from competitions, be it in sport or in the workplace. I never know where I’m going, I don’t have a place I want to be, a career, a position or an end result, (this last statement is not a 100% accurate, but it’s pretty close). Being very process driven has its perks, The act of judging become a process of weighing. I picture an old fashioned scale, one with two dishes, one on either side. You put the artichokes on one side and weights on the other side, and watch the needle find the center. So the result you are looking for is always balance.

Wait, I have to think about this some more,.... does this mean I am result driven after all?

Thoughts on judgment

There is a line in a song by Eddy Brickell that goes:

“ This eye looks with love,

this eye looks with judgment,

free me take the sight out of this eye.”

I have played that song and that line in my head for I don’t know how many times. Sometimes I sang it to myself as a heartfelt wish, please stop judging yourself and others. Sometimes I sang this line as a statement of fact, I do have two ways of looking at the same thing, so...?.

It got me thinking what judging means and I have stumbled on a few things.

One way of judging is very black and white, it is either good or bad, right or wrong, true or false, ugly or pretty, guilty or not guilty. I thought about how I feel judged when the verdict is negative and praised when the verdict is positive. Which is funny because a verdict is still a verdict, a label, a canvas, a way to categorize.

Then a funny image popped into my head. An old fashioned jury next to a skating ring, the ones that were there when the Olympics were still in black and white, the ones with serious faces and old fashion hairdos, that would hold up wooden signs with there marks painted on. Those judges would give marks for artistic qualities, how intricate the moves are, and the overall entertainment value or something like that. This way of judging seemed to me to be more fair, after all, a lot more things are taken into consideration. But you still end up with a way to categorize, bronze, silver, gold or go home empty handed.

I use both systems to judge myself, others, food, art, the weather or sounds. So I sing: “free me take the sight out of this eye.”

Then it dawned on me, what if I stop judging mind for judging. Why don’t I let mind do what it is good at and let it have control over concepts, and let mind sort out a way to weigh pro’s and con’s. Mind is no dummy, it knows we are in a permanent state of flux, it knows it is not the be all and end all, but mind does need a place. So today I formalized it for my mind; I gave mind a job; find out a much as you need or can about any behavior of self, others, situation or a subjects, than map out as many merits as is fair to judge these behaviors, situations or subjects on. With the full understanding that anything can change or needs to change at any moment. Mind leaped at this near impossible challenge and finally be able to do what I has always done but now without the fear of being judged, and the rest......the rest feels very free.

Limping

I must have been 7 or 8 when my mum took me to a parade, in celebration of some war survived and freedom found. At that time I had only eyes for the million colors and people passing by and had only ears for the marching bands and the applause they got. I had no eye for history or ear for the story of long long ago. There were people in costumes trying to depict a time of hardship and woe and horses in robes and riders that managed to keep their cool. Music from marching bands and brass. Girls dancing and twirling batons. And people on stilts. I felt I would never have enough eyes and ears to embrace it all when suddenly; one steady beat of a single drum grabbed my attention. I tried to see where it came from but it was still too far away. As the sound of the drum came closer and closer it seemed to drown out all the other sounds and it grabbed my heart. When the drum came into my field of vision it filled my world. Behind the drum, a small group of man, all dressed in soldiers uniforms from a time way before my grandfathers grandfathers grandfather was born, one man, beating the drum, walked in a steady pace, the white long drum seemed to cling to his leg and with every step it jumped up as the baton came down. My heart and the drum seemed to be beating in the same pace. I let my eyes wander through the small group taking in as much details as I could, they landed on the last man in the last line and on his left leg. I was fascinated, it was beautiful. Look, mum look, I shook her by the arm, Mum look how skillful that man can limp. My mum poked me; “shush don’t say that, he’s got a real limp”, she whispered. Her harsh shush shook me, but I swear at the same time I could see a big smile on the limping man’s face. I watched his back as the group walked away and I still think it looked a little straighter and distinctly proud.

There is not a parade that goes by that I don’t think about the limping man and my head wants to tell him I never meant no disrespect, while in my heart of hearts I know I paid him homage and I still do. After all these years my memory of that parade is still limping.

On teachers and being taught

I am very fortunate to have had several very good teachers. Some were four legged, some two legged and even a few with just one leg, not that it really matters. Some taught me just one class in two minutes and with some I stayed for years. Some acknowledge me as there student, some don’t even know I exist, not that it really matters. Some were brilliant storytellers; some didn’t bother to talk to me at all. Some never claimed to be teachers, some were all too eager to say they were, some pushed me is subtle ways, some just threw me in at the deep end, not that it really matters. What really matters is, was I a good student.

I am very fortunate to have had several very good teachers.

Taiko Oroshi

I sounded the oroshi today. I never done that before, not in front of an audience. I only sounded it once, without anyone looking. There was not a moment of nerves, just preparation. When the taiko was placed and the hanbo found, I calmly waited for the moment I could begin. I stepped onto the tatami, faced the kamiza and bowed. Calmly I walked over to the taiko and bowed, picked up the hanbo and bowed. I took my kamea and a moment of silence and raised the hanbo high in the air, than I let all I knew and all I still need to learn take over. The hanbo came down and hit the skin of the taiko, the overwhelming sound raised the hanbo again high up in the air and the rhythm was hers. First the slow beats that became faster and faster, than slowed down again, the hanbo finding the heart of the drum and mine, then there was silence. I bowed again to taiko and stick, now with a new found respect and immense gratitude. I sat down in seiza and felt the energy rush through me.

I sounded the oroshi today.

Thoughts on fear (3)

Fear, like flu is easily transmitted

Don’t

Unlike flu, fear can be controlled by you.

Do

Thoughts on fear (2)

Fear is an alarm. Don’t let it grow into a air-raid, treat it like the alarm that you keep next to your bed. When it sounds, hit the off switch, have a good stretch and a yawn, think of what you’re supposed to do today, get up, get dressed and move.

And what ever you do, don’t blame the snooze button.

Thoughts on fear (1)

I once saw a home video of a little girl getting all dressed up by her mum for Halloween. She really looked the part with her pointed hat, black wig and broom and her face all covered in scary make-up. Happy and excited she walked over to the mirror to look at her self and got the fright of her live; There was a witch standing there. That made me think.... maybe fear is just you in scary make-up.

Thoughts on trust

I came across a man and his dog today and had an interesting chat. Flow and his dog Wolf seemed to recognize each other immediately and played to there hearts content. We, although we have never seen each other before, were happy to meet, it’s not every day you come across someone with the exact same rare breed dog and share stories. After praising the beauty of each others dog and the breed, we started comparing. So, the man asked, does Flow hunt? Does she ever, she hunts everything from mice to deer. We both agreed that they go into a zone and are unstoppable. He shook his head and I nodded, “It’s the wolf in them”. So how’s Wolf with other dogs, I asked. Well, the man responded, as long as the other dog is an Alpha, he’s fine, but otherwise.....he can be downright dangerous. Yes, Flow is the same, I need to stay the leader of the pack at all times. He shook his head as I nodded, “ Yep, it’s the wolf in them”. Meanwhile Flow and Wolf were nowhere to be seen. It’s always the same isn’t it, the man said, he never stays with you, not like something like that, he pointed at NaNa who was sitting at my feet. No, I said stroking NaNa’s head, Flow makes these huge loops around me, but she always seems to know where I am. He shook his head and I nodded, “Well, it’s the wolf in them” “They are not to be trusted” the man added. I didn’t say a thing, see, I trust Flow completely. NaNa started to whine as she always does when she gets bored, silently I thanked her for it and gave a sharp short whistle. Within seconds Flow came running up to me, Wolf in hot pursuit. We said our good-byes and went our separate ways, and without a fuss our dogs followed there own pack.

On my way back to the car I wondered why the man didn’t trust his dog. Sure they are a handful, but I trust Flow completely. I know she knows where I am at all times, when she is out off my sight. I trust her to hunt and chase anything that will run away, and I know that, when she sees her chance, she will kill a chicken or even a fawn, but I also trust her to gently pick a kitten out of Mo’s litter and carry it around carefully. I also know that she trusts me completely when I tell her no, or when the world gets to scary for her. She is not at all like NaNa who I trust completely with my eyes and ears closed. With Flow I need all my senses wide open at all times, she is a great teacher. I expect her to be the Tsjech wolfdog that she is, like expect NaNa to be the Canadian Alsatian that she is. So I figured, trust must be determined by your expectations.

By the way, I took the bleu route again, and saw the dreaded hill for what she really is ... just a bump in the road.

New Years resolutions

Knowing that change is the only constants, better learn to embrace her.
After letting that one sink in for a moment, became incredibly happy. The immense amount of freedom that will give, sure sure with immense freedom comes immense responsibility, but I can handle that. I’ve got the ability to respond.

Knowing I will die and that is the only thing I can be sure of, better use death as an advisor.
I know my death from even before I was born, better check in with her more often, she knows me most intimately and doesn’t mind sharing her wisdom freely.

And most importantly don’t dilly-dally.