green bouquet

i feel like writing and it feels amazing. i have not felt this inspired in many months (as you can tell from the absence of real writing on this blog...), probably, to tell you the truth, i haven't felt like this for at least a few years. i'm not quite sure what i want to write about, but i think it's something about living and love and loneliness and fear and memories and nostalgia and well, letting go, i suppose.

while i was in japan over the holidays, i saw an amazing documentary on a young mountaineer, nobukazu kuriki, who is trying to find the meaning of his life by challenging 7 summits solo, without oxygen, with minimal high-altitude mountaineering experience. he has successfully climbed 6 out of 7, with only the everest left to go. his attempt at everest last year ended in disappointment, having to turn around before hitting the summit climb. and since it was (and still continues to be) his mission to broadcast his experience live on the web as a means to awaken the lost inspiration, courage, and will to live in the hearts of modern-day young adults, his experience is vividly recorded on film. watching his footage and listening to his interview, i was reminded of alex supertramp (christopher maccandless), the young american man who took off from his modern day living to live on the streets of the u.s., ending his life in the wilderness of alaska trying to be self-sutaining in the dead of the winter, alone, whose story was made famous by the book by krakauer: into the wild (and succeeding film).

kuriki and maccandless both seem to share the same frustration of the way we, young adults, are expected to live our lives in this society where inequality and unjust systems of power and wealth destroy humanity. clearly, i can attest to this. realizing that "meaning of life" is so tainted and undermined by daily needs of the modern living is a desolate, lonely experience, and sure, more sensitive you are, more passionately you would feel the need to prove it wrong, to defy what seems to be an inevitable path of life and die satisfied from trying... there is so much sadness in this world, and being able to see it is a blessing and a curse. it can drive you to the places of extreme thoughts where you may begin to question your very existence and the role you play in the context of the way world works.

what can i do? why was i born? what should i be doing with what i don't have and what i can't have?? these are questions that drive many of us to insanity, and i found the documentary both reassuring and exasperating, because in an essence, it sort of confirmed my powerlessness and inability to make something happen; to do something meaningful to the world, which in turn would be meaningful to me. perhaps it is a natural course of growth. perhaps it rests in the core of the saturn return. perhaps it is what is necessary for revolutions - or could it be enlightenment...? - to ignite. whatever the reason may be, i will probably continue to battle with the same kind of defeated (but heated) yearning that somehow keeps me on my feet.

in the middle of these thoughts one of my recent horoscopes said:

"Great benefits, at first very subtly, begin to fall into your life. Later you realize a joy has quietly entered your life as if on little cat's feet. You find your thinking is reshaping itself. Intuition, perception and visions become more and more available. Allow nothing to stress or impose demands upon you. Your fear could do this. Love neutralizes fear."

joy has entered my life indeed, with a green bouquet that she grew with her own hands, nurtured with familiar memories and pain and loneliness. quietly but with an incredible intensity that reminds me of the waterfall, the light from the harvest moon, the sun that can heal and produce life thick with vivacious vigor, she found her way into my life. this shuddering of my soul speaks only truth, the sign of acceptance, of synchrony; our tears are colored the same...



she introduced me to this comical, quirky and yet darkly poignant japanese (naturally) film, kamikaze girls (shimotsuma monogatari), which we watched together, and there is a quote that acts as the central theme of the story:

"human beings are cowards in the face of happiness. you need courage to hold onto happiness."

and boy, isn't it punching me (or rather, head budding...?) in the face right now. having something i have been waiting for, something so beautiful and precious and extraordinary is nudging me to the edge of the cliff made slick by self-deprecating insecurity. joy makes me vulnerable. happiness makes me melancholy. this is when i go back to my horoscope and think about what maccandless wrote in his book a few days before his death:

"happiness - life - is best when shared"

trust me, i'm not going to be a coward. instead, i'm going to indulge in the gratefulness for her presence, for her love, and possibility and hope.