5 responses to “31 Days of Kissing the Wounds :: Day 20 ~ Wabi-Sabi: How Time Came Along”

1. 31 Days of Kissing the Wounds :: Introduction – A Moveable Garden

   October 20, 2016 at 8:56 pm

   […] 17: I Am A Landscape Of Loss Day 18: The Darkness, the Sweetness Day 19: Something Vacant Day 20: Wabi-Sabi: How Time Came Along Day 21: Day 22: Day 23: Day 24: Day 25: Day 26: Day 27: Day 28: Day 29: Day 30: Day […]

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2. 

   Donna Montenegro

   October 21, 2016 at 10:53 am

   Thanks for introducing me this Japanese philosophy. I had heard of it but never knew what it was until I read your post.

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3. 

   mmwm

   October 21, 2016 at 10:59 am

   Thanks, Donna. I wrote more about it last year, too. https://amoveablegarden.wordpress.com/2015/10/08/31-days-of-a-sense-of-place-day-8-wabi-sabi-spirit/

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4. 

   railtonstachmus

   October 23, 2016 at 1:52 pm

   First, your photographs are FUCKING amazing.

   “Wabi sabi acknowledges three things: ‘nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished.’ — Richard Powell

   Even though I’ve never considered myself an overt perfectionist AND have spent many years seeking to integrate a more Buddhist approach—non~grasping, non~attachment, present vs. outcome orientation, and becoming responsive and allowing vs. reactionary with all kinds of survival behaviors popping out; reading that quote illuminated a quick reflections about myself.

   I was very young when I began assessing what perfection would look like. In my Barbie apartment house, and in many other instances that flipped through my mind: I would think, ” I like this, but it would be really perfect if I had the _______.” (In this case it was the dream pool) However that sneaky little assessment would show up over and over around everything in my life, my body, my living space, my love relationship, my job, my clothes, artwork, and lots of experiences too: a meal, a concert, a trip, a holiday, a season, a movie….

   The many, many subtle and sometimes desperate wishes that IF (my current habit, lack of a possession , condition or situation–whatever it might be) was different then I could be happy—reinforced an amorphous sense of perfection just out of reach. I certainly cultivated a make the best of it, appreciate what you have kind of attitude, all along with a quiet underlying impression of the question of longing–why don’t I ever get what I want? Deeper, what’s wrong with me?

   After years of trying to untangle this complex woven underlay, I’ve found that to get hold of and change that lens takes real focus and discipline.

   Nothing is perfect. Seeking it creates unnecessary suffering. I believe that. It’s a battle a lot of the time to hold that perspective. My strong desires (activated mimetic rivalry) , and my sensitivity/receptivity to sensory pleasure can easily reset a sense of ecstatic perfection-the experience of some amazing bites of food, to yogic bliss, a connecting and thrilling conversation, absorbing a powerful piece of artwork, an exquisite flower arrangement…many many moments come to mind. Ones that feel absolutely perfectly perfect. When I get to feel happily happy. Then comes a slight dullness and a subtle craving to experience the intense beauty again.

   Somewhere between these cycles, I touch contentment with what is. Allowing without resistance—sometimes even in shit circumstances. I find that in those moments my vision is more clear and decision making process is easier. And the acceptance of life as it is increases. It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m okay with the knowing that nothing lasts and nothing is finished.

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5. 

   mmwm

   October 25, 2016 at 10:16 am

   Love your reflections, as always, Renee. Your imperfect perfectness, too. I can see in your history some of what you describe — wanting experiences, especially, to attain perfection, again and again, and to stay there, and our sort of let-down feeling when they don’t — I wonder if you notice the same in your sister or remember it from your upbringing somehow, that drive to make this Christmas even better than last, or for this dinner’s ecstatic experience to carry over into everything else, forever and ever, amen (easy to think of ecstatic food experiences, taking this food and film course, where so far we’ve seen two orgasms caused simply by eating).

   It’s funny, in a way, because when I think of you and another friend who I think has a similar pattern of wanting and almost expecting everything to be amazingly amazing, a peak experience, I don’t think as much of the disappointments, though I recognise them, but instead of your (and her) resiliency and ability to bounce back to expecting greatness in the next moment or next experience. It’s something I admire. And when I am planning something with you or her, I know that even if it’s not great, you’ll remember the great parts (whereas lots of people I know seem to mostly remember the bad parts of good times).

   I get that you feel or notice “a slight dullness and subtle craving” after a great experience, when the high feels over, and that both the let-down feeling and the craving interfere with being in the present, completely enjoying the moment, because you are waiting for the net big (or fabulous small) thing — which reminds me of how well AbFab treats this topic! (eg, “I don’t want more choice; I just want nice things”). On the other hand, the CS Lewis idea of “our best havings are wantings” comes to mind, too … the idea that yearning, and putting off pleasure for a bit, is pleasurable. Not sure how that fits in with the Buddhist idea of yearning and craving suffering. Maybe yearning has a little more patience in it that craving, more of a willingness to wait? idk.

   Anyway — your Barbie dream pool! The pinnacle of happiness and satisfaction! xoxo

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