Lazy Saturday Afternoon Post

I am here in the library at National Chengchi University. This morning, I woke up to the sounds of a few roosters and birds who live on the mountain here. On Saturday mornings, I have aikido class. As always, it can be described in one word: fun!

Afterwards, some of the students hang around and practice their aikido moves, and then they end up sitting cross-legged on the mat, laughing and teasing each other. One of them goes to the piano in the room where we practice and starts playing classical piano. Surely, she began when she was just a kid. Some of the girls start making up a little aikido dance to go with the music.

I sit and watch, talking to a new friend of mine. She is nervous about testing for her blackbelt next week. Inevitably, we get nervous about big things like blackbelt tests. I tell her it is good to be nervous. I've learned not to fight against the feeling and just accept it. When I used to perform, I just got used to the fact that before each performance, I would get nervous, and that this was "nothing special". I learned to honor all that Life Force. When I would later be riding a wave of energy while singing or playing the drums, I knew I was riding that same "nervousness".

I appreciated making a new friend today. Afterwards, I walked down the hill to the library and sat on a bench outside. Today I feel something bursting inside of me. It can only be called love, and yet, it is not the result of a romantic encounter. It's strong and vibrant and essential to it is a bit of sadness, which makes it a bittersweet kind of love. Pema Chodron, the great Tibetan teacher (by the way, of course, she is also Jewish), calls this boddhicitta. She writes:

Boddhicitta is the rawness of a broken heart. Sometimes this broken heart gives birth to anxiety and panic, sometimes to anger, resentment, and blame. But under the hardness of that armor there is a tenderness of genuine sadness. This is our link with all those who have ever loved. This genuine heart of sadness can teach us great compassion. It can humble us when we're arrogant and soften us when we are unkind. It awakens us when we prefer to sleep and pierces through our indifference. This continual ache in the heart is a blessing that when accepted fully can be shared with all.

Last night, I went to see a production at the Guling Theatre in Taipei. It was Kafka story performed in Chinese. With puppets. I have to say, it was truly fucking strange. I was impressed by the puppetry. Amazing to see four or five puppeteers dressed in all black, walking around controlling a puppet. The puppet comes alive. It's not any one of the puppeteers, but all of them.

I met my friend Caroline's roommate, Janaki, last night. They lived together in Paris. She does theatre all over the world. So many people in Taiwan and around the world, working jobs they hate, slaves in this humungous jail we call "capitalism", and they can't get out. What's worse, they try to convince themselves to feel good about it. (If you'd like to hear American comedian George Carlin talk more about this, click here.) It's life-affirming to meet someone like Janaki.

Enjoy your day.