The year of a giant earthquake
ends
with warmth up from my socks
Ban'ya Natsuishi
Like the clear sound of tinkling jade (玉声), Natsuishi's haiku reverberated as music in my heart. For this was, indeed, the year of the giant earthquake. And, for me, it was very much a year of thinking--perhaps not unlike Voltaire did in Candide--about what it is to live through dark times and how we as human beings can make sense of things like mega earthquakes.
But what is it to think about things like this?
Heidegger once said he wanted to differentiate between thinking as pure ratiocination and what he described as the pre-Socratic notion of thinking (noein) as "perceiving," or of being attentive to something. This would be to suggest that through our imaginative attention to the world around us--through this kind of "thinking"-- we take to mind and heart. And then, --in the words of Robert Harrison, we are saved by the vision:
What appears to the eyes then becomes spiritualized and, as spirit, enters the onlooker's inner being, inspiring the soul to emit a sigh. From this sigh of inspiration--this culminating intake and exhalation of breath--the poem we are reading is born.
In my own life, I am not sure I have ever lived through a year when things have felt so utterly unstable--from the shaking of the earth and the tsunami, to the news overseas and at home. Yesterday, I stumbled across a blog post about a recent study of income inequality in the roman empire in which even imperial Rome fared better than today's America. And from here on the ground, it sure does feel that way. I wonder who couldn't feel the same that 2011 has been a tumulutuous year. For me, at least, the mood has been of great instability within and without-- as if 10,000 things are out of balance and the center cannot hold...
But like Natsuishi's haiku above, my year-of-the-great-earthquake also ended with a very quiet appreciation of warmth--of the warmth of family and friends; of music heard in poetry, and always of the natural beauty that surrounds me. Like the warmth of the poet's socks, these small, near and dear things---- sing.
The year of a giant earthquake
ends-- with the geese
returning to the lake
-- Peony
If anyone wanted to send in a poem for the end of the year of the great earthquake, that would be wonderful.
**
Painting is a very unsual ZHANG DAQIAN 張大千 (1899-1983) that will appear here again soon, called
GAZING AT A RED SPIDER (1939年作)
Recommended: My friend Eric Selland's article on the Poetry of Natsuishi Ban'ya & The Atlantic's Year in Photos
And from earlier this year: Voltaire and Earthquakes
For music as poetry like "chanting a poem at heaven's gate: 天門一長嘯、万里清風来 (李白) is
one of my favorites of Shin Sasakubo below.
hmmm.... I can't remember the last time I left a comment here.
2011 feels like such an extraordinarily long year, and a year of earthquakes. This year feels so long that I actually have to open Wikipedia and check that the Tohoku and Christchurch earthquakes happened this year. It is true that Japan and New Zealand have always been shaking, but this year it got so much more violent.
And I read this morning that New Zealand leads the world in one more area: My country has seen the fastest growth in the gap between rich and poor since the 1980s of any country in the world.
What a horrible year.
But whenever I find myself wishing 2011 would make itself scarce and leave us in peace, I remember March 31. This is the year my daughter was born, and she's brought a whole new world of magic with her.
What a beautiful year.
Happy New Year!
Posted by: Chris Waugh | December 29, 2011 at 11:31 PM
The vast cloud you felt
In this year? Its lightning
Reached all feeling hearts.
Posted by: Adarnay | December 30, 2011 at 08:48 AM
sky-like mind ...
10,000 clouds
Posted by: a barefoot boy | December 30, 2011 at 10:19 AM
Oh Chris, I am so happy to hear from you!!! And your news is better than good it is FABULOUS!!! Congratulations!!!! I am so happy for you. I would love to see photos--can you post them on facebook?? She must be adorable. Our boy was also born in very very tumultuous times.. it was just a few months after the world trade center and things felt--just like now-- unsteady.... and yet, children never even notice! It is almost impossible for me to imagine that New Zealand has wider gaps in income inequality than the US--where it is absolutely appalling.
Anyway, I am so glad to be in touch!!! Can’t wait to see your daughters picture!! I was invited to come to Shanghai by a friend in May but I don’t think I will make it... would love to visit you in the northern capital someday...xoxoxo BTW, I read and HIGHLY recommend to you Ghosh’s River of Smoke. You will LOVE it. It is almost unbelievably evocative of place and also is an interesting illuminating of the colonial mind—these things which still reverberate today and well... I think it was the best novel I read in 2011. Think of all my friends, you in particular will enjoy it.
2001 according to google
Happy New Year!!!
Posted by: peony to CW | December 30, 2011 at 01:56 PM
Happy New Year!!!
Oh Arsen, it is wonderful to hear from you!! And yes about the heart and being illuminated...One of my dearest friends (who also reads your blog, I think) recommended this book to me and I think you might enjoy it as well, called New Gnosis: Heidegger, Hillman, and Angels (angels =Henry Corbin’s illumination of the creative imagination).
Posted by: peony to arsen | December 30, 2011 at 02:10 PM
Sky-like mind
10,000 clouds--
It is the “perfect place to walk”
Posted by: peony to BFB | December 30, 2011 at 02:27 PM
Thanks! I'm back from Chichibu where Shin Sasakubo resides. During my stay in Chichibu,from 29 to 31 December, we enjoyed music by Shin and his friends, my haiku reading with their music and our walking among mountains.
Posted by: Ban'ya Natsuishi | December 31, 2011 at 02:56 AM
A New Year's offering, my latest adaptation from the Chieko poems...
-----
Artist's Studio, New Year's Eve
after Kotaro Takamura
Let’s not leave the moist clay, earthenware to freeze,
My love.
Tonight the kitchen larder will be empty – no matter.
Let’s warm the fire.
In the bedroom, the blankets may thin out
And you may clutch a pillow,
Shivering , in early light – no matter.
Let’s not leave the moist clay, earthenware to freeze.
I will be your sentinel, sleepless in midwinter,
Letting loose the mercury’s
Thin column, a brigade against the gale.
Though we may find the world has left
The two of us alone – no matter. New Year’s day.
My love, let’s warm the fire.
Posted by: Samuel Peralta / Semaphore | December 31, 2011 at 10:23 AM
The year of the giant earthquake
ends
cold, I stir the fire
Posted by: Sterling Price | January 02, 2012 at 04:24 AM