The Base of the Lighthouse is Dark

Sitting with my feet propped, after deciding to do nothing, I begin the forward to Even a Stone Buddha Can Talk,.. More Wit and Wisdom of Japanese Proverbs, compiled and translated by David Galef.  I'm drinking my brother Tim's, rich tasting coffee in Troy.  (In a huge, bright, glossy-red cup) 

I'm stressed. I'm embarking on a new adventure.  I need to find an apartment in Ann Arbor.  I need to be ready to connect to a diverse community.  I need to dive into my music and writing.  I need to take care of my health and aging body.  I need to look forward.  I need to face my fears.  

All of these waves of change cause a surge in the opposite direction that can pull me backward.  It's like getting stuck in the undercurrent out at the Sand Dunes.  You jump into the waves, straight on and sideways.  Sometimes you even climb on their back as they come foreword and you ride them in.  You realize you could get knocked down and pulled under without a warning.  It's exhilarating, but scary.  The trick is to not let yourself get so fatigued the waves own you.  They only option then, is to let the undertow grab you and pull you under so you can ride it out and grab a breath when it spits you out somewhere else.

Imagine.  Picture…… 

In Charles Inouye's forward to this book of proverbs, he writes,  "If there is no imagination, there is no truth…wisdom has no agenda.  It is no one's servant but everyone's teacher."  He goes on to say, "To the extent that this is true (and sometimes there just isn't a perfect fit), the same must be said of truth.  It belongs to no one, while we all belong to it.  Any other kind of truth is just someone's opinion."  Each tidbit of wisdom I internalize, I progress.   

I get teased about my "imagination".  I understand why.  I get carried away and end up traveling solo without giving anyone directions to my inner journey.  A large portion of the time I use it just to have fun.  To play. To keep a dull chunk of time interesting.  But, without my imagination I'd still be commuting through snow and ice every day to teach in Atlanta. Driving in the dark to and from work for months.  Returning each day to an empty, lonely house.  Cantering at St. Mary's Cathedral, practicing alone.  Not connecting in any real way to the Catholic Community.  Wondering if my desire to try bluegrass music is anything but wishful thinking. Fearful of taking risks with my writing.

Picture From Proverb's Book,
(I can imagine my frustration with fear)

In the last year I've used my imagination to push enormous boulders out of my path, so I can continue.  I've retired from teaching, moved and worked in Turkey, started this blog, recovered from a major injury to my shoulders and neck, sold my home, sifted through mountains of accumulated family memories and possessions (reduced them to fit into a 5 X 9 square foot storage space), moved to St. Ignace and fought the desire to live forever looking out a window at Lake Huron, now I'm moving to Ann Arbor.

St. Ignace Shore in December Storm

Proverbs are strong and often visual metaphors. And……..they're short!  I love to read and think and connect wisdom from other writers.  Right now, this day after Christmas, short is all I can process.  I think it's interesting the book I left here the last time I stayed "Wit and Wisdom from Poor RIchard's Almanack, by Benjamin Franklin, was sitting by the coffee pot. (with directions to not screw up the perfect pot of coffee on blue sticky-notes from Tim) Another book with "short" wisdom-packed thoughts.

Tim's Sticky Note!

I'll end with some of my personal choices 

from these books:

Amadare ishi o ugatsu    -    Raindrops will wear through a stone

Tdai mot kurashi    -    Darkness at the base of the lighthouse.

They who have nothing to be troubled at, will be troubled at nothing

He that would catch Fish, must venture his Bait