"Man is but a reed, the most feeble thing in nature, but he is a thinking reed. The entire universe need not arm itself to crush him. A vapor, a drop of water suffices to kill him. But, if the universe were to crush him, man would still be more noble than that which killed him, because he knows that he dies and the advantage which the universe has over him, the universe knows nothing of this.
All our dignity then, consists in thought. By it we must elevate ourselves, and not by space and time which we cannot fill. Let us endavour then, to think well; this is the principle of morality."
--Pascal Pensees 347
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Wrecked Fragments
In September of 2001, I was in a bad car accident. Here are the fragments.
I was 24 and starting my second year of graduate school. Although we didn't know it, this was the Friday before 9/11, and my friend JJ and I planned to visit our friend Eric, who lived in Abilene. I was excited to go and hadn't gone out of town this far away from home before.
I was 24 and starting my second year of graduate school. Although we didn't know it, this was the Friday before 9/11, and my friend JJ and I planned to visit our friend Eric, who lived in Abilene. I was excited to go and hadn't gone out of town this far away from home before.
Sometime after 5:00 PM, we left town and made our way up towards what I like to call the "middle of no where".
Our trip before the accident was already eventful. I had to stop about an hour and a half out of town because I had diarrhea. We drove through a small town but finding a gas station wasn't an issue. You see, I have a thing for clean restrooms. We were driving in one of those "antique towns" so there were no obvious fast food joints either. After what felt like forever, I found a nice-looking Americana restaurant. I think the hostess asked me how many would be in my party but I can't remember if I answered at that point. At this point, my bowels were more or less guiding my brain. I don't mean to gross you out, it's just if I hadn't had this bout of diarrhea, the accident would have likely never happened.
It's disconcerting to think our little lives revolve around such inane chance events.
We were driving between Brady and Mason when the accident occurred. It must have been a little after 7:00 PM and the sun was just dipping below the horizon. It was one of those beautiful late summer/ early autumn sunsets when the sky is pink, purple, and blue. We were listening to Weezer's Green Album, as I was trying to convince my friend it was pretty okay. We were cruising right at the speed limit of 70 mph and we were about halfway to Abilene.
Then it happened.
There were two deer on the side of the highway. I had time to see them and think "no". They ran right in front of my 2000 green Ford Frontier. I knew intellectually I wasn't supposed to try to dodge them at that distance and at our speed but that's just how I reacted in the milliseconds I had.
I swerved to my left but the deer were already there and my truck hit the back end of one of them. Instinctively, I yanked the steering wheel back to the right, trying to get back to the right side of the road. Of course, this was a textbook case of "over-correcting". Don't try it at home, folks.
Here's where it gets interesting. Everything slowed down - every second felt like an additional 10 seconds. I know the memory can be an odd thing to pin down, but I remember it very clearly and happening very slowly. After over-correcting, the truck seemed to hang on the driver's side two wheels. In this millisecond, my brain concocted a favorable outcome, similar to An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge. I remember thinking, "We're gonna make it". Of course, we would land back on all four wheels, flipping would be impossible. Sure, I'd have a pretty damaged front end, but we would be back on our way to Abilene in no time with a story to tell. No problem, right?
Instead, the truck continued it's momentum to the right and we slammed down onto the road towards our journey upside-down and right-side up again. And again, and again. It felt earth-shattering. This was easily the loudest noise I had ever heard before or since. At one point I remember opening my eyes and seeing the world turn upside-down and thinking, "When is this going to end?" It felt like this was taking entirely too long.
We finally settled about 10 feet off the road, we must have flipped at least 5-6 times. Thankfully, this was central Texas and there weren't many trees around. We were also blessed enough to land right-side up. Weezer was still playing on the trusty stereo ("Simple Pages" for those scoring at home). My first action was to turn the music off. JJ later told me he asked me if I was okay about 2-3 times before I responded but I don't remember that at all.
As I looked around I couldn't fathom how or why my left arm was bleeding profusely. I looked down and I just saw red; red meat. Blood was everywhere and I remember thinking that this could be very, very bad. We were in the middle of nowhere and my left wrist and arm were bleeding more blood than I had ever seen in real life.
JJ was basically unscathed - he had one small scratch on his arm. Thus I deemed him "Unbreakable" after the accident. If you haven't seen the movie, well, you are missing the reference.
My arm hurt but it wasn't all that bad - I was more worried than anything else. My door was sealed shut but JJ could get out of his side. JJ called 911 with my cell phone. I had never wanted one of the new-fangled devices but my Mom insisted on giving one to me. I never used the thing, maybe using it just a few times in my life. However, I did take it with me if I traveled. This was very cutting-edge in 2001 and it featured those classic alarm-clock-like numbers on it! Looking back, I am surprised the phone even had coverage in the middle of nowhere.
At this point, things get hazy. After the 911 call and obligatory phone calls to our families, JJ began to gather our belongings. All of our bags and clothing had been strewn across the highway.
Someone had pulled over to help us and soon a man was visiting with me at the driver's side window. This stranger was going to help me keep myself together. I wanted to get out of the car but glass was everywhere and the stranger told me to stay put.
I knew I was going into shock. It's an entirely odd and disconcerting experience to lose control of your body while at the same time knowing exactly what and why it is happening. Suddenly, it felt as if the wind picked up and this beautiful late summer night seemed downright cold. My teeth began to chatter. I knew I was losing blood from my arm so I pressed it as tight as I could onto my leg. I lifted it off my shorts to examine it but it only made me scared so I didn't do that again. The stranger had brought me a white sheet from his car to cover me.
The stranger asked me questions about my life, my career goals, etc. I remember answering him slowly. My field of vision kept getting smaller and smaller. The blackness was closing in. I told the stranger that I couldn't see and he told me to keep talking. So, I did. In the back of my head, I was worried. The thought occurred to me that I could die right here, but that thought was not as frightening as you might think.
My life didn't flash before my eyes nor did I reflect on God, the afterlife, heaven or hell. I didn't think about my regrets in life or the things I wanted out of my future life. Most of what I remember thinking was simply, "I want to live". This will to live was a powerful feeling and like the shock I was experiencing, it also felt uncontrollable. This wasn't a choice, but instinct. Something deep inside of me was urging me to fight.
I am comforted by the fact that in these moments I didn't suffer great pain or fear. Shock comes in and helps blunt most of the pain and at the same time, kept fear at bay. I also understand how the body will just give out with too much trauma - ending all the pain altogether. I obviously can't speak for anyone but myself, but it's a nice thought knowing many people I had assumed had painful deaths, could have actually experienced less pain and fear than I had previously imagined.
Eventually, the ambulance and fire department arrived. After a few questions, I told them, I was fine to climb out of the window (not true, but ya know). I heard them talking amongst themselves, someone mentioned "the jaws of life". All I knew was that meant more waiting. One of the firefighters wrapped a huge NFL Cowboys blanket over me to keep me warm. I was finally able to see a little better. They were under the blanket with me as well, telling me what was happening, as the machine was ripping the roof off the truck cab. I started to get warmer and actually really hot. I told the firefighter I was hot but he said that was a good thing. Then I heard the machine cutting the roof off the truck. I might have cracked a few jokes to the firefighter but I can't be sure.
Our trip before the accident was already eventful. I had to stop about an hour and a half out of town because I had diarrhea. We drove through a small town but finding a gas station wasn't an issue. You see, I have a thing for clean restrooms. We were driving in one of those "antique towns" so there were no obvious fast food joints either. After what felt like forever, I found a nice-looking Americana restaurant. I think the hostess asked me how many would be in my party but I can't remember if I answered at that point. At this point, my bowels were more or less guiding my brain. I don't mean to gross you out, it's just if I hadn't had this bout of diarrhea, the accident would have likely never happened.
It's disconcerting to think our little lives revolve around such inane chance events.
We were driving between Brady and Mason when the accident occurred. It must have been a little after 7:00 PM and the sun was just dipping below the horizon. It was one of those beautiful late summer/ early autumn sunsets when the sky is pink, purple, and blue. We were listening to Weezer's Green Album, as I was trying to convince my friend it was pretty okay. We were cruising right at the speed limit of 70 mph and we were about halfway to Abilene.
Then it happened.
There were two deer on the side of the highway. I had time to see them and think "no". They ran right in front of my 2000 green Ford Frontier. I knew intellectually I wasn't supposed to try to dodge them at that distance and at our speed but that's just how I reacted in the milliseconds I had.
I swerved to my left but the deer were already there and my truck hit the back end of one of them. Instinctively, I yanked the steering wheel back to the right, trying to get back to the right side of the road. Of course, this was a textbook case of "over-correcting". Don't try it at home, folks.
Here's where it gets interesting. Everything slowed down - every second felt like an additional 10 seconds. I know the memory can be an odd thing to pin down, but I remember it very clearly and happening very slowly. After over-correcting, the truck seemed to hang on the driver's side two wheels. In this millisecond, my brain concocted a favorable outcome, similar to An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge. I remember thinking, "We're gonna make it". Of course, we would land back on all four wheels, flipping would be impossible. Sure, I'd have a pretty damaged front end, but we would be back on our way to Abilene in no time with a story to tell. No problem, right?
Instead, the truck continued it's momentum to the right and we slammed down onto the road towards our journey upside-down and right-side up again. And again, and again. It felt earth-shattering. This was easily the loudest noise I had ever heard before or since. At one point I remember opening my eyes and seeing the world turn upside-down and thinking, "When is this going to end?" It felt like this was taking entirely too long.
We finally settled about 10 feet off the road, we must have flipped at least 5-6 times. Thankfully, this was central Texas and there weren't many trees around. We were also blessed enough to land right-side up. Weezer was still playing on the trusty stereo ("Simple Pages" for those scoring at home). My first action was to turn the music off. JJ later told me he asked me if I was okay about 2-3 times before I responded but I don't remember that at all.
As I looked around I couldn't fathom how or why my left arm was bleeding profusely. I looked down and I just saw red; red meat. Blood was everywhere and I remember thinking that this could be very, very bad. We were in the middle of nowhere and my left wrist and arm were bleeding more blood than I had ever seen in real life.
JJ was basically unscathed - he had one small scratch on his arm. Thus I deemed him "Unbreakable" after the accident. If you haven't seen the movie, well, you are missing the reference.
 |
| It's an underrated movie that I think was unfairly panned at the time of its release. Unbreakable has a lower score on IMDB than The Avengers. I am sorry, The Avengers sucked. I guess it was a "fun" movie (with lots of explosions and aliens) but the more I think about it, the more it sucked. Search your heart, you will know it's true. Unbreakable gives you something to think about. I think people felt the ending was too much of a rip-off of The Sixth Sense (and this was the very next film after its release). Although the ending was a surprise, it remains one of my favorites because of the themes of identity and purpose. It helps that it's about comic books too. Oh, and it's my favorite Samuel L. Jackson flick - the more restrained he is, the better (although neutered in Star Wars was like watching a Michael Jordan play minor league baseball). |
My arm hurt but it wasn't all that bad - I was more worried than anything else. My door was sealed shut but JJ could get out of his side. JJ called 911 with my cell phone. I had never wanted one of the new-fangled devices but my Mom insisted on giving one to me. I never used the thing, maybe using it just a few times in my life. However, I did take it with me if I traveled. This was very cutting-edge in 2001 and it featured those classic alarm-clock-like numbers on it! Looking back, I am surprised the phone even had coverage in the middle of nowhere.
At this point, things get hazy. After the 911 call and obligatory phone calls to our families, JJ began to gather our belongings. All of our bags and clothing had been strewn across the highway.
Someone had pulled over to help us and soon a man was visiting with me at the driver's side window. This stranger was going to help me keep myself together. I wanted to get out of the car but glass was everywhere and the stranger told me to stay put.
I knew I was going into shock. It's an entirely odd and disconcerting experience to lose control of your body while at the same time knowing exactly what and why it is happening. Suddenly, it felt as if the wind picked up and this beautiful late summer night seemed downright cold. My teeth began to chatter. I knew I was losing blood from my arm so I pressed it as tight as I could onto my leg. I lifted it off my shorts to examine it but it only made me scared so I didn't do that again. The stranger had brought me a white sheet from his car to cover me.
The stranger asked me questions about my life, my career goals, etc. I remember answering him slowly. My field of vision kept getting smaller and smaller. The blackness was closing in. I told the stranger that I couldn't see and he told me to keep talking. So, I did. In the back of my head, I was worried. The thought occurred to me that I could die right here, but that thought was not as frightening as you might think.
My life didn't flash before my eyes nor did I reflect on God, the afterlife, heaven or hell. I didn't think about my regrets in life or the things I wanted out of my future life. Most of what I remember thinking was simply, "I want to live". This will to live was a powerful feeling and like the shock I was experiencing, it also felt uncontrollable. This wasn't a choice, but instinct. Something deep inside of me was urging me to fight.
 |
| Ok, here's the weird part. At some point, a woman started taking pictures of the whole thing. We have no idea who she was. She told JJ she would send pictures to his home address. Check out the dude in the white shirt on the left. I have no idea who this guy was. He was not (to my recollection) the stranger who spoke with me. You could say he was my guardian angel, and if so, he looks very, very disappointed in me. |
I am comforted by the fact that in these moments I didn't suffer great pain or fear. Shock comes in and helps blunt most of the pain and at the same time, kept fear at bay. I also understand how the body will just give out with too much trauma - ending all the pain altogether. I obviously can't speak for anyone but myself, but it's a nice thought knowing many people I had assumed had painful deaths, could have actually experienced less pain and fear than I had previously imagined.
Eventually, the ambulance and fire department arrived. After a few questions, I told them, I was fine to climb out of the window (not true, but ya know). I heard them talking amongst themselves, someone mentioned "the jaws of life". All I knew was that meant more waiting. One of the firefighters wrapped a huge NFL Cowboys blanket over me to keep me warm. I was finally able to see a little better. They were under the blanket with me as well, telling me what was happening, as the machine was ripping the roof off the truck cab. I started to get warmer and actually really hot. I told the firefighter I was hot but he said that was a good thing. Then I heard the machine cutting the roof off the truck. I might have cracked a few jokes to the firefighter but I can't be sure.
 |
| This is nice one as you can see the extent of the damage of the roof. Hard to believe we weren't injured any worse. |
 |
| Here they are pulling me out of the car. |
Cut that roof off like a sardine can.
Afte the roof was cut off, they were finally able to load me into the ambulance. This was quite a surreal experience. One of the most over-used shots in film is the "Victim's POV looking up at EMT/doctors/nurses" camera angle and here I was, experiencing that particular point of view. At this point, I realize someone is taking pictures, so I give them the classic/cliché "thumbs up".
 |
| I loved that shirt. RIP |
I may have been woozy but I remember the medic in the ambulance being cute. As my left leg was drenched in blood, she attempted to cut my shorts off to ensure I wasn't injured elsewhere on my body. I was starting to feel a little embarrassed by the whole thing. I knew I shouldn't have tried to dodge the deer and I felt like an idiot. Now, this cute medic wanted to cut my pants off. Luckily, she believed me when I told her my legs were just fine - so my bloody shorts remained on.
I asked her questions about insurance as I didn't have any health insurance at the time. But she told me it was my car insurance that would provide coverage, so I could enjoy the ride the hospital in relief. What an American moment, instead of being grateful to be alive, I was worrying about how my family was gong to pay for the treatment.
Once in the hospital, I waited in the emergency room by myself for what felt like forever. I just sat there with my arm bleeding into a tray. It was a lonely experience. By now, my injuries were beginning to hurt and I was ready for some kind of treatment. When the truck was flipping, my arm went flying out the window and scraped the road. Again, I was fortunate my arm wasn't hurt any worse.
Finally, someone arrived and I began getting treatment on my arm. The nurses picked the tiny pieces of asphalt that had been embedded into my arm, piece, by torturous, piece. It was excruciating. It was the worst pain I have ever felt and I responded like a little baby. I think they gave me some kind of painkiller but it felt like I was given a half of aspirin. I asked for more medicine and the nurse told me, "we've given you all we can honey". I felt like a weakling. Thankfully, Eric's mom had been in Abeliene and was already at the hospital, she kindly held my hand as they picked out the bits of road from my arm. I kept telling myself that it would eventually end, and I would have a story to tell one day.
 |
At the junkyard the next day. It was quite a sight to see. Also, a rare photo of myself and my Dad (at least on the Hopeful Fragment). On the way home we stopped at a mom-and-pop hamburger restaurant and I swear it was the best hamburger I ever had.
|
Sometime after midnight, my parents finally arrived. It turned out JJ couldn't get a hold of my parents so he left a message on my parent's home phone answering machine. Later, my Mom told me my Dad went a little crazy when he heard the message because JJ did not make it clear I was alive and kicking and that I was going to be "ok". I have never talked about it with him because that's just the relationship we have. We mainly talk about sports and my kids.
All that said, I've been blabbing too long. I was on my road to recovery. I had fractured my wrist, got a whole bunch of stitches and had a huge gash of road rash (treated like a 3rd-degree burn). I got used to doing everything with one hand. It sucked, but ya know, I was glad I wasn't dead.
 |
| When people would ask, I would often reply that I was attacked by a pit bull. I have scar tissue that is essentially a tattoo of the asphalt (as it's darkened black like the road). I tell people it's the only tattoo I'll ever get. |
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Flashback: MLK Day 2012
We purchased a new PC around three years ago and all the pressure to delete photos on the basis of quality, redundancy, etc. faded.
About 8 months ago we stopped even organizing by month. Which was just a huge mess.
So, I am "working" about a 1-3 months each night, I turn the photos the right away, organize and delete between 100-200 photos a night. I have at least two more years to really go through. It's pretty daunting, but it makes me feel good. It feeds my little OCD monster inside.
I am finally in 2012 and I found this gem from the MLK walk in 2012. I think it's a pretty neat dream too.
About 8 months ago we stopped even organizing by month. Which was just a huge mess.
So, I am "working" about a 1-3 months each night, I turn the photos the right away, organize and delete between 100-200 photos a night. I have at least two more years to really go through. It's pretty daunting, but it makes me feel good. It feeds my little OCD monster inside.
I am finally in 2012 and I found this gem from the MLK walk in 2012. I think it's a pretty neat dream too.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Art Post: My Little Pony
We just celebrated C's 8th birthday last night and I went to work on a poster for the door. C loves My Little Pony (MLP, ya know). Cliche Alert: WE CAN'T BELIEVE OUR BABY IS ALMOST 8 (we have few days of 7 yet!!) It may be the last time she has a "character" birthday party, which makes me a little sad. In the meantime, she has grown into a smart, empathetic, sweet, sensitive and funny 2nd grader. I couldn't be more proud of her.
There are worst things than MLP to be into, and it's a halfway enjoyable show. My "art" has dwindled down to projects for my kids, drawing Sesame Street characters for my son to keep him busy and doodling on occasion at work. I nailed a picture of the "the Count" about two weeks ago for H and felt like a KING. Oh yeah, it's on the fridge (seriously). I still love drawing - it's just now I'm more like an artist for hire for my kids (they pay me in hugs). Here are the results from the party:
There are worst things than MLP to be into, and it's a halfway enjoyable show. My "art" has dwindled down to projects for my kids, drawing Sesame Street characters for my son to keep him busy and doodling on occasion at work. I nailed a picture of the "the Count" about two weeks ago for H and felt like a KING. Oh yeah, it's on the fridge (seriously). I still love drawing - it's just now I'm more like an artist for hire for my kids (they pay me in hugs). Here are the results from the party:
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| Don't call me a "Brony" but that's Twlight and Spike. Pencil, Map colors & Sharpie. I wanted to use paint but really didn't have time for it. C loves it and now has it hanging on her wall. That's the biggest compliment! |
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Holy Tired Framents Batman!
I just haven't been motivated to write on the blog lately.
There's not really an over-riding reason why. Just ya know, blah de dah. Sorry to my one long-time reader. Maybe there are even two of you hiding there.
We were given a new TV back in December (for the record we have been married 10 years and never paid for a TV) - this is our first flat screen and I feel very sleek and futuristic now. Anyway, we don't have cable and for some crazy reason our TV couldn't pick up NBC. No biggie because basically the only thing we watch on broadcast TV is: Castle, the occasional local news at 10 PM and my wife watches Grey's Anatomy. That's it. Oh, and college football from time to time.
Anyway, my SOULMATE says, we need to re-tune it, to get NBC for the Winter Olympics. I'm like, okay, so I retune the sucker, move the antenna around a bit and get NBC, problem solved. Hubby is a Hero. Do you know how much our family has watched of the Olympics now? That's right, ZERO. Zilch. None thus far. All this is to say, now our tuner has trouble picking up PBS and ABC. GAHAHAAH! Seriously, though, I didn't mind I just think it's funny.
Started writing a few songs on Audacity a few weeks back. Basically a capella numbers (my voice is the guitar and drums) with layered backup voices. Fun stuff. The wife thinks I am crazy. She has a good point.
I went to a Weezer tribute concert here in town last week. 1 really good band, 1 really awful band and 2 okay bands. Still, fun. One band even played Jamie and Longtime Sunshine. That was cool. I hadn't see an amateur band in ages so it was kinda weird being able to be think things like, "yikes, that sucked"; "I can sing better than this"; "why can't they find a back-up singer?"; etc.
Also, work is kinda crazy - working on dethroning the powers that be is more fun than I thought. The quote from the Gandhi movie keeps coming into my head every other day:
"...(W)hen you are fighting in a just cause, people seem to pop up – like you (to help)– right out of the pavement."
Working for justice is energizing.
It's Saturday and I got stuff to do, but it's time for a PIC DUMP. It's been too long and you deserve it.
There's not really an over-riding reason why. Just ya know, blah de dah. Sorry to my one long-time reader. Maybe there are even two of you hiding there.
 |
| If you're getting this reference you are a winner in my book. |
We were given a new TV back in December (for the record we have been married 10 years and never paid for a TV) - this is our first flat screen and I feel very sleek and futuristic now. Anyway, we don't have cable and for some crazy reason our TV couldn't pick up NBC. No biggie because basically the only thing we watch on broadcast TV is: Castle, the occasional local news at 10 PM and my wife watches Grey's Anatomy. That's it. Oh, and college football from time to time.
Anyway, my SOULMATE says, we need to re-tune it, to get NBC for the Winter Olympics. I'm like, okay, so I retune the sucker, move the antenna around a bit and get NBC, problem solved. Hubby is a Hero. Do you know how much our family has watched of the Olympics now? That's right, ZERO. Zilch. None thus far. All this is to say, now our tuner has trouble picking up PBS and ABC. GAHAHAAH! Seriously, though, I didn't mind I just think it's funny.
 |
| The only sport I am remotely interested in watching would be curling. About ten years ago I watched curling for the first time with a group of friends (oh yeah, we were drinking). It was awesome. Truly, it is a "sport" that should be watched while drinking and while staying ignorant to the rules. I think if I bothered to know more about the sport it would just ruin it. I just want to senselessly watch it and mindlessly cheer for random countries to glory in curling. |
Started writing a few songs on Audacity a few weeks back. Basically a capella numbers (my voice is the guitar and drums) with layered backup voices. Fun stuff. The wife thinks I am crazy. She has a good point.
I went to a Weezer tribute concert here in town last week. 1 really good band, 1 really awful band and 2 okay bands. Still, fun. One band even played Jamie and Longtime Sunshine. That was cool. I hadn't see an amateur band in ages so it was kinda weird being able to be think things like, "yikes, that sucked"; "I can sing better than this"; "why can't they find a back-up singer?"; etc.
Also, work is kinda crazy - working on dethroning the powers that be is more fun than I thought. The quote from the Gandhi movie keeps coming into my head every other day:
"...(W)hen you are fighting in a just cause, people seem to pop up – like you (to help)– right out of the pavement."
Working for justice is energizing.
It's Saturday and I got stuff to do, but it's time for a PIC DUMP. It's been too long and you deserve it.
 |
| Might need to be a Ramones fan to like this one |
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| Well, I assumed the human race was doomed, but this is surprising. |
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| Drummers don't get any respect. |
G'night kids and don't forget to take out the trash, there's probably something rotting in there anyhow.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
The Ineffability of Life
It's an experience we've all had. A feeling or thought comes over you but can't find the words that would "do it justice". It might be a spiritual experience or a moment with your lover or child. This feeling might come when you find yourself in nature, experiencing something of great beauty alone. Or maybe it's even simpler- you find yourself unable to explain why you love a certain song or film or even food. Suddenly, language can seem ill-suited to communicate exactly how you feel. In fact, the act of communication seems to rob the experience of its beauty and pulls you further away from understanding.
Here's a Daoist take on this ineffable feeling from Zhuangzi:
Duke Huan was reading a book in the hall. Wheelwright Pian, who had been chiseling a wheel in the courtyard below, set down his tools and climbed the stairs to ask Duke Huan, "May I ask what words are in the book Your Grace is reading?" "The words of sages." the Duke responded. "Are these sages alive?" "They are already dead."
“That means you are reading the dregs of long gone men, doesn't it?"
Duke Huan said, “How does a wheelwright get to have opinions on the books I read? If you can explain yourself, I’ll let it pass otherwise, its death." Wheelwright Pian said, ‘‘In my case I see things in terms of my own work. When I chisel at a wheel, if I go slow the chisel slides and does not stay put; if I hurry, it jams and doesn't move properly When it is neither too slow nor too fast I can feel it in my hand and respond to it from my heart. My mouth cannot describe it in words but there is something there 1 cannot teach it to my son and my son cannot learn it from me So I have gone on for seventy years, growing old chiseling wheels The men of old died in possession of what could not transmit. So it follows that what you are reading is their dregs."
It's a wonderful little story (well, besides the fact Pian was threatened with his life for only a passing comment). I think the metaphor the Wheelwright makes is apt - we often have a hard time teaching someone to do something that is easy for us to do physically. Without looking at your keyboard, try imagining telling someone who has never typed, which fingers to use to type out a specific sentence. Or try to imagine explaining to a non-bipedal alien how you walk,chew gum and talk all at the same time. You know, you just do it. The larger point is that the written word and the spoken word are more like shadows than we perceive them to be.
The Dao De Jing teaches that "the way" of the universe itself is ineffable, as the first chapter states, "The way that can be spoken of - Is not the constant way; The name that can be named." To think you know how to define the way means you're already wrong. Daoists are content with this mystery and like other Eastern philosophies, Daoism stresses contentment over striving. Peacefulness over activity. There are limits to human knowledge and intuition so we should individually be satisfied with the little that we do have. The desire for more, whether it be for knowledge or wealth leads to destruction.
This feeling of ineffability is (in part) behind why artists create art. Because "I love you" or "That's really pretty" can't cut it; so we create and attempt to transcend normal reality. We strive for describing this truth and yet, there is a kind of beauty in this paradox. We are trapped inside our brains with no way to directly share our experiences (yet). No one can fully understand you (if even you can understand yourself). However, these private, indescribable moments can stay with us forever, to be treasured in our solitude.
Here's a Daoist take on this ineffable feeling from Zhuangzi:
Duke Huan was reading a book in the hall. Wheelwright Pian, who had been chiseling a wheel in the courtyard below, set down his tools and climbed the stairs to ask Duke Huan, "May I ask what words are in the book Your Grace is reading?" "The words of sages." the Duke responded. "Are these sages alive?" "They are already dead."
“That means you are reading the dregs of long gone men, doesn't it?"
Duke Huan said, “How does a wheelwright get to have opinions on the books I read? If you can explain yourself, I’ll let it pass otherwise, its death." Wheelwright Pian said, ‘‘In my case I see things in terms of my own work. When I chisel at a wheel, if I go slow the chisel slides and does not stay put; if I hurry, it jams and doesn't move properly When it is neither too slow nor too fast I can feel it in my hand and respond to it from my heart. My mouth cannot describe it in words but there is something there 1 cannot teach it to my son and my son cannot learn it from me So I have gone on for seventy years, growing old chiseling wheels The men of old died in possession of what could not transmit. So it follows that what you are reading is their dregs."
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| Here he is, Zhuangzi himself (or at least that's what Google told me). Of course no one really knows what he looked like but this guy looks "with it" enough for me. |
It's a wonderful little story (well, besides the fact Pian was threatened with his life for only a passing comment). I think the metaphor the Wheelwright makes is apt - we often have a hard time teaching someone to do something that is easy for us to do physically. Without looking at your keyboard, try imagining telling someone who has never typed, which fingers to use to type out a specific sentence. Or try to imagine explaining to a non-bipedal alien how you walk,chew gum and talk all at the same time. You know, you just do it. The larger point is that the written word and the spoken word are more like shadows than we perceive them to be.
The Dao De Jing teaches that "the way" of the universe itself is ineffable, as the first chapter states, "The way that can be spoken of - Is not the constant way; The name that can be named." To think you know how to define the way means you're already wrong. Daoists are content with this mystery and like other Eastern philosophies, Daoism stresses contentment over striving. Peacefulness over activity. There are limits to human knowledge and intuition so we should individually be satisfied with the little that we do have. The desire for more, whether it be for knowledge or wealth leads to destruction.
This feeling of ineffability is (in part) behind why artists create art. Because "I love you" or "That's really pretty" can't cut it; so we create and attempt to transcend normal reality. We strive for describing this truth and yet, there is a kind of beauty in this paradox. We are trapped inside our brains with no way to directly share our experiences (yet). No one can fully understand you (if even you can understand yourself). However, these private, indescribable moments can stay with us forever, to be treasured in our solitude.
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