Yearly Archives: 2003

Walking Through The Grass

I could see my breath this morn­ing as I walked into the naked air. The sun had bare­ly been up for an hour, imper­cep­ti­ble behind lines of hous­es and trees, but cast­ing a faint orange glow on every­thing around me. The chilly morn­ing breeze was a sign that glo­ri­ous morn­ing weath­er has already begun.

Dabbling In Tao

Heaven is ancient
Earth is long-last­ing
Why is this so
    Because they have no claims of life
By hav­ing no claims of life
    they can­not be claimed by death

The Sage puts his own views behind
    so ends up ahead
He stays a wit­ness to life
    so he endures
What could he grab for
    that he does not already have?
What could he do for him­self
    that the uni­verse itself has not already done?

—Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

Yesterday, I picked up a copy of the Tao Te Ching, trans­lat­ed by Jonathan Star. I found out about the Tao Te Ching a few days ago, and on perus­ing through a few vers­es I was imme­di­ate­ly drawn to the ideas of bal­ance and exis­tence. It’s almost as if I’ve already been liv­ing by the teach­ings of the man­u­script, with­out ever hav­ing actu­al­ly seen or read the text. My own per­son­al life­time goals are extreme­ly sim­i­lar to what Lao Tzu held as the prop­er way of life. This could pos­si­bly be the most sig­nif­i­cant find­ing in my life, although that would depend on how I accept these teach­ings.

One of the fun­da­men­tal prob­lems of trans­lat­ing the Tao Te Ching is the fact that Lao Tzu was a very cryp­tic writer, so the many mean­ings that a Chinese sym­bol can have cre­ates a need for inter­pre­ta­tion. I searched through Chapters for a suit­able trans­la­tion by read­ing the dif­fer­ent inter­pre­ta­tions of the same verse. I was sur­prised to see how dif­fer­ent­ly each trans­la­tor sees the same set of Chinese char­ac­ters. I find that an appro­pri­ate trans­la­tion gen­er­al­ly requires assent with the world­view of the trans­la­tor. The book by Jonathan Star has his own trans­la­tion, which I find to be nice and clear, but also a ver­ba­tim trans­la­tion so that one can inter­pret the man­u­script in their own way. Jonathan Star also has his own com­men­tary on the first verse, which I’m able to con­sult if I want a sec­ond opin­ion (or a third opin­ion, as he draws on the trans­la­tions of oth­ers in his com­men­tary as well).

The Lion Sleeps Tonight

Dolores is now com­fort­able enough with me to com­plete­ly fall asleep in my stom­ach. Not just any “closed-eyes-but-star­tled-at-any-slight-sound” asleep but “com­plete­ly-twist­ing-over-bel­ly-up-loss-of-all-sens­es” pass­ing out. I find it inter­est­ing that she still has the abil­i­ty to purr the entire time she’s on my stom­ach, but has no reflex­es at all. I can touch the pads of her back paws or poke her bel­ly and there’ll be no reac­tion. I can put her favourite treat in front of her nose, and she won’t even look at it. My the­o­ry is that purring is a very sub­con­scious activ­i­ty that cats may not be able to con­trol.

Rapaciousness

I’m sor­ry, but I can’t go anoth­er day with­out telling you how much I want to feel your face beneath my fin­gers, how much I want to drag their trem­bling tips across your gen­tle skin. My mind swells with almost inclement desire, that I may con­sume your body or breathe in your being with every sigh you let out.

I want to run my fin­gers across the play­ful curve of your brow, the arch­ing base of your nose, the edges of your sup­ple lips. I want to feel your skin give beneath mine as it resists from the sul­tri­ness of your com­plex­ion. I want to explore every diminu­tive line in your face and exam­ine every fea­ture of your coun­te­nance. I want to graze the flour­ish of your lash­es and kiss the cor­ners of your exquis­ite, point­ed mouth.

Even now my mind strug­gles with the words, the inef­fa­ble nature of my over­whelm­ing appetite.

That you may be mine.

And no one else’s.