Origami Teachers and Spaceless Dreams
Here sits the finite paper
A thin shadow frames the square
resting gently on the wooden table
Consider the potential
An infinite amount of shapes and movement
may manifest from deft hands
What distinguishes these creations
Purely time and perception
Unfold them all and you return
to the patiently creased
two-dimensional sheet
Like the ridges of a mountain,
the wrinkles of the elderly,
These creases contain the magic
that unlocks the rainbow's mysteries
This is where stimulation,
yearning, and awakening dwell
Words with the velocity of trade winds.
Internal triggers that thrust us
from paper into practice,
Causing us to interact, learn,
laugh with the other pages
Harvesting nutrition together
for our future designs
And ultimately, build a community of sheets
that reside near a park
where all can sit, content to be
at the whim of the swings
watching the folded birds fly by
on a thin breeze
I've had concerns about my path recently. Writing is self-therapy for me. My only hope is to offer more light by acknowledging the windows and doors that lay quietly beyond the walls.
In trying times, one method of relaxing myself, besides folding paper, is to remember to breathe deeply and step out of my body. To zoom out and view myself third person. And then to get an aerial view of the room I am inhabiting. To go further and find myself relative to the landmass, and finaly join the stars out through the atmosphere. It is our smallness that makes us unique. Our smallness (to confirm the illusion of size and distance) does not interfere with our ability to make an impact, on each other and the planet. There are many stories in indigenous cultures about small animals that overcome large odds through their courage. 'Opae E, a song by Israel Kamakiwoale depicts an underwater Hawaiian legend.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bihwdyKoI1Q
http://www.huapala.org/O/Opae_E.html
My friend writes about dualities, and how they too, are illusions. Such truth in his statements. The mind enjoys separating, distinguishing and categorizing events and emotions because of the safeness and comfort that follows it to shore. It is easy to say someone was born into their calling. Whether they're a natural knuckleball thrower, greenthumb, skydiver, quantum physicist. I believe we are born, and we enter these stages in our lives that feel right. The second we attach ourselves to "this is it," we are shaken with the impermanence of our existence. It takes courage to follow your own pursuit and to know internally that you are doing so on your own will. Are we living our individual dreams, a collective dream or someone else's? Will we ever know? Does it matter? Whose to say that someone else's dream couldn't fit your life better than your own? Is it a small puka in our soul that needs mending and leaves us unsatisfied at a rudimentary level? A missing ingredient in a curry? And what would this world be like if everyone followed their OWN dream? Most children raised aren't encouraged to use their imagination and pursue their dreams.
And on the other hand, we can try to accept "everything is always perfect," "we are all the same page, just folded into different shapes" and "all pursuits [are] worthwhile." Let us do our best to engage in our present with our fullest attention and intention.
Grateful for all the selfless teachers and paper gifts that guide us in unforeseen directions,
Matthew
No comments:
Post a Comment