Monday, August 12, 2013





The Dichotomy of Human Life


     You cannot be in more than 1 place at a time

     I have an affluent friend. She has a very beautiful condo apartment in the city with a large terrace and an unobstructed view to the East and North. The garage has a painted grey floor that is spotlessly clean. No expense is spared for upkeep and maintenance. It'a an exquisite living space.

     And then, north of the city, she has a "country house" near a ski-centre. This three-storey townhouse is on a corner with  paved roads on two sides and has small front and back yards. She and her late husband did a lot of work, paneling most of the rooms and arranging a nice garden. It's not a cottage, she says, it's a house. There are no more cottages, she says. Those non-winterized shacks are in the past. In the immediate area of her townhouse there are large three-storey houses with two car garages and manicured lawns (and sometimes a swimming pool.) The only thing "rustic" about it is the lack of sidewalks. It is an automobile area with overgrown ditches on one side and trimmed grass on the other. There is a golf course nearby and carts putter by sporadically. A pretty place, not much wild left. So these people bring their money here, trying their best to bring sophistication to the savage wilds. There are 3 large trees near the house which provide shade, but my friend does not like how they lean towards the house. (Sword of Damocles?) 

     She tells me some of her expenses and how she works for guests who don't seem to appreciate her efforts. This twelfth of August she plans to prepare the house for winter and prepare her three-month trip to Europe. She laments that today is a very nice sunny day and she is returning to the city, chagrined at leaving the good weather behind. 

      I had thought of bringing my sleeping bag, but unfortunately forgot it. She expressed some misgivings about preparing a small bed for me in the basement. Later, preparing supper together, we almost had WWIII over a plastic salad spinner. She insisted I use the little gizmo and implied that perhaps I didn't know much about cooking. I bit my tongue. I asked her if she wanted red and green peppers in the salad. No, she said, no peppers in salads. I did say that I invented Alphabet Salad - 26 vegetables from alfalfa sprouts to zucchini. I think another tongue was bitten.

     I do have to say, at this point, that I was invited as an overnight guest. We are, and remain, new friends, only having met about two months ago. This was our first time together for an extended period. So little problems about who likes what and working together in a small kitchen were inevitable. We did well despite our differences - I do think a plastic salad spinner is a kitchen gadget that is pretentious and pretends to mechanical superiority. Please read Marshall Mcluhan's "Mechanical Bride" which I read at 17 - 45 years ago. Anyway, she's a retired art history professor and I didn't want to get uppity about my "uneducated" attitudes. I really don't want to do "negative reporting" about this friend - she is interesting to me and I appreciate her years of experience. But I do have an artistic sensibility and I am dismayed for her when she claims I couldn't write a good novel because I don't have a degree. I'm not friendly toward people who consider themselves superior to others. Perhaps my 62 years living a life of work and my own studies, reading Freud and Jung and Joseph Campbell and Plato and Marx and Tom Peters and the courses I DID take in Psychology, Economics, Writing, Short Stories (several, including Alice Munro and Chekhov.) If I decide to get a degree in Cinematograhy (which I'm considering) will I just learn how to make another cheap "Rosebud" symbol? Will knowledge break my creative spirit? I learned from one of the best - Lina Wertmuller - a modern film-maker (a few years ago) that brought serious, thoughtful study to the art of film-making. I hate Hollywood action shit and I will never make a movie with a gun in it. That's my manifesto. Briefly. 

     This little piece is supposed to explain something about the Human Dichotomy. I wanted to explain how many people with a bit of money get their dreams fulfilled and a life full of logistical problems. They buy two vehicles and spend four days a month wrangling at the car dealers about expensive repairs and parts that don't arrive. They have three places to go but they don't know when or where. They drive to the cottage in crazy traffic Friday night and do it all over again on Sunday, cursing the stupid drivers, the price of gas, and the radio that broke again. After doing chores at the cottage all week-end, they come home to the laundry needed for Monday morning and set the alarm early so they can go to the car dealer's. They stay up late making lunch or rush out to get cash for tomorrow. They are owned by what they own. They never admit it. That would mean their "Heaven" is really Hell - and who wants to admit that "Life is Hell?" 

     So, you can be rich, famous and educated, but you probably won't be happy because life is now so cluttered with "things you must do" there is no time to be yourself. Who the hell are you? Take some time. Turn everything off. Stop. Meditate. You don't need courses in Meditation. Try to turn the thoughts off. Clear your mind of any agenda. Love yourself. No - no soothing music with headphones, no cell, no food. Twenty minutes - use a timer, or just forget about the time, there's little chance that you'll meditate until the middle of next week. Stop planning. 

"To the mind that is still, the whole universe surrenders."    Lao-Tzu 
August 12, 2013

       


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