DAILY PHOTO: Srinagar Flowers
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BOOKS: The Half Known Life by Pico Iyer
The Half Known Life: In Search of Paradise by Pico IyerMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
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The subtitle to this collection of travel essays might suggest Iyer intends to write about the most idyllic places on Earth. In a way, he does, but he’s also revealing the conundrum of “paradise” by showing the reader places that have been called “paradises,” but which are also some of the furthest places from serenity imaginable. I wouldn’t say that the author is revealing the concept of paradise to be an illusion, but rather that he’s showing that there is an inextricable tangle of dark and light in any earthly paradise. I think the idea is best expressed in a quote from the book, “A true paradise has meaning only after one has outgrown all notions of perfection and taken the measure of the fallen world.” [FYI: the main title is from a quote from Moby Dick.]
From my experience with some of the places that Iyer covers (e.g. Kashmir, Sri Lanka, Varanasi, etc.) I can glimpse the substance that started him digging. It isn’t just that these places are superficially paradisaical (though Kashmir and parts of Sri Lanka are definitely scenically idyllic,) but there is some other (deeper) quality by which these places feel fantastical. Of course, the examples that I mentioned (as well as others: e.g. Jerusalem) are simultaneously examples of the antithesis of paradise. These are troubled places with histories of violence and dysfunction. I even learned that Bali (which doesn’t have its own chapter but is discussed) has barbarity in its own history, and it seems as likely a candidate for true paradise as any.
I enjoyed reading this book. I must admit that part of my fascination with it derived from the fact that I’d tread much of the same ground that Iyer covers. I’d highly recommend the book for readers of travel writing.
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Taoist Limerick
Once upon a time, there was a wise, old Taoist priest
who got the least from the most & the most from the least.
If he offered a snack,
you'd be bursting your slacks,
but expect empty plates when he'd call for a feast.
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PROMPT: Neighbor
Knows when to mind their business and when to call the cops.
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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost [w/ Audio]
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
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DAILY PHOTO: Murdeshwar’s Giant Shiva
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Typhoon Trap [Rubāʿiyāt Stanza Variation]
Trapped on the island by typhoon. It's evening dark, though at high noon. The waves are wild and still rising. So, ferries won't be running soon. The few streets there are lie silent, but - seaside - the winds whip violent. We hide inside a bungalow, and hope it's fixed firmer than my tent. One 's always where it's most remote when they cancel all ferryboats: where there're too many thoughts to think, and few distractive antidotes.
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PROMPT: First Time
Skydiving comes to mind. Particularly, because it seems like something that I’d like to do once, but then would have no pressing urge to repeat it, having had the experience. There are a lot of things in this world that I could try for the first time, but I’m getting old to be trying anything that might become an ongoing competing demand for my time and energy. For example, I’ve thought of doing scuba, but that seems like it would become a whole ordeal of maintaining certifications and feeling the need to keep doing it.
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The Tiger by William Blake [w/ Audio]
Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And, when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? and what dread feet? What the hammer? What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? What dread grasp Dare its deadly terrors clasp? When the stars threw down their spears, And watered heaven with their tears, Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the lamb make thee? Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
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PROMPT: Principles
What happens in the external world does not DETERMINE one’s mental / emotional experience.
It’s better to see oneself as a student than as a master — at any stage of life and development.
Be tolerant. No one knows enough to justify smug superiority.
Self-expression is what we live for, and it is curtailed to everyone’s detriment.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 