The other day at work, I was talking to a co-worker about Radiohead and I mentioned that I really liked "Videotape", but ironically I haven't listened to it since I picked up In Rainbows nearly a year ago. So tonight, I decided to give it the album a spin and "Videotape" seems to be the perfect conclusion to an album, and I taught myself the song on piano. The lyrics are quite depressing... will we ever find the perfect day so we won't be afraid anymore? I guess, I should rephrase that as "will I ever find the perfect day so I won't have to be afraid...?"
When I'm at the pearly gates
This'll be on my videotape
My videotape
When Mephistopheles is just beneath
And he's reaching up to grab me
This is one for the good days
And I have it all here
In red blue green
Red blue green
You are my centre when I spin away
Out of control on videotape
On videotape
This is my way of saying goodbye
Because I can't do it face to face
Or talking to you after it's too late, from my videotape
No matter what happens now
I won't be afraid
Because I know today has been the most perfect day I've ever seen.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Monday, September 8, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Courage and peace in the face of defeat
This is not an exaggerated tale of an old man finding courage and peace in the face of defeat. It does not involve an epic battle between an old man, a marlin and later sharks. Instead, it is simply a tale of an ordinary old man, accepting and finding peace as he loses his courageous fight with cancer.
Three years ago, as he was diagnosed with terminal non-small cell carcinoma in his lungs, the hopelessness and fear that emanated from his face will forever be etched into my memories. His prognosis was not good and the old man was initially given two years to live, but it then dwindled to a year and finally down to three months as he seemed to have lost hope and became burdened with the thoughts of death. However, just as everything seemed hopeless, he tried a new doctor and the doctor gave him a new anti-cancer drug. Soon, his condition stabilized and his cancer was eventually controlled; it was not cured, but for the time it was not spreading or growing. Instead of three months, the old man has now lived for three years.
But as it often is in life, all things must come to an end, and the old man's cancer now stopped responding to the medicine and the doctors had let him know that there is nothing left they could do for him and that he'll have three to four months left. I was saddened by the news and went to visit the old man. We talked about recent events, the Olympics, my plans for the future, and other things an old man would ask a young man. Unlike three years ago when he was told for the first time that he would have three months to live where he looked hopeless and defeated, something had changed about him. Three years later, as he was again told that he will have three to four months to live and this will probably be it because there's medically nothing more they can do to help him, hopelessness and defeat cannot be seen in his face. Instead, even with his hostile predicament, he exuded an air of serenity and peace that I've never seen in another human being before. It appears as though in the three years that medical science has afforded him, he has come to accept his condition and has come to peace with himself. And though he appears to have accepted his eventual defeat, there is such courage in his eyes as he awaits it.
He's no superhero, but gracefully and peacefully finding courage in the face of defeat requires an awful lot of valor and dignity. I have learned many lessons from this old man, but these are perhaps some of the most important ones in life.
Three years ago, as he was diagnosed with terminal non-small cell carcinoma in his lungs, the hopelessness and fear that emanated from his face will forever be etched into my memories. His prognosis was not good and the old man was initially given two years to live, but it then dwindled to a year and finally down to three months as he seemed to have lost hope and became burdened with the thoughts of death. However, just as everything seemed hopeless, he tried a new doctor and the doctor gave him a new anti-cancer drug. Soon, his condition stabilized and his cancer was eventually controlled; it was not cured, but for the time it was not spreading or growing. Instead of three months, the old man has now lived for three years.
But as it often is in life, all things must come to an end, and the old man's cancer now stopped responding to the medicine and the doctors had let him know that there is nothing left they could do for him and that he'll have three to four months left. I was saddened by the news and went to visit the old man. We talked about recent events, the Olympics, my plans for the future, and other things an old man would ask a young man. Unlike three years ago when he was told for the first time that he would have three months to live where he looked hopeless and defeated, something had changed about him. Three years later, as he was again told that he will have three to four months to live and this will probably be it because there's medically nothing more they can do to help him, hopelessness and defeat cannot be seen in his face. Instead, even with his hostile predicament, he exuded an air of serenity and peace that I've never seen in another human being before. It appears as though in the three years that medical science has afforded him, he has come to accept his condition and has come to peace with himself. And though he appears to have accepted his eventual defeat, there is such courage in his eyes as he awaits it.
He's no superhero, but gracefully and peacefully finding courage in the face of defeat requires an awful lot of valor and dignity. I have learned many lessons from this old man, but these are perhaps some of the most important ones in life.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Where's the cure for the bored and lonely?
Could I beg of myself the blame
maybe a little more -
stretch to my neck,
and I could see above it all.
Days go so slow,
I'm finding time with no devotion.
We prance around unfavorably,
where's the cure for
the bored and lonely.
If not for you,
there's no glory
in stargazing battles
of the bored and lonely.
Feel this night
an ending,
an entrance in sight
I know how to feel two circuits.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Saints and sinners
The stabbing and beheading of the young man on the Greyhound bus was indeed tragic and unnecessary. My condolences to the family and friends of the victim - no one deserves to go like that. The unfortunate event, however, has given me some reminders about life and society in general.
In the hours after the event took place with news spreading like wild fire, I saw the headlines on CBC's homepage. I'll admit that after reading it, I was enraged that something of this nature happened and I perceived the suspect as some sort of deranged monster that probably deserves to be treated the same way he treated his victim. Comment after comment in the comments area of the CBC page for this story spoke of capital punishment or how the suspect must be deranged. Reading these comments and due to the way the story was reported, I too began to feel like I was agreeing with the web users who had commented.
However, today when I read the developments of the story and there was a picture of the murderer dressed in a blue prisoner's vest with his head down walking out of the courthouse, it put the human aspect of the man back into my head. It made me remember that although this man is probably 100% guilty, we need to hear his story and see what his psychiatric assessment says. I reminded myself that I should not pass judgment on anyone before their story is heard, no matter how right or wrong it might be. The fact that the suspect looked like any other person that could be walking down the street made me remember something a wise old man once told me when I was a child:
Although, we do not know the story until the investigation is completed, charges laid and the suspect tried, he might well be a normal person that just snapped. Even if that's not the case, we should be kind, loving and caring for one another to make sure nobody snaps. And if he does turn out to be someone who has mental illness, society should be better educated on mental illnesses so we can provide such individuals with the help they need in order to prevent such sad and disgusting acts.
In the hours after the event took place with news spreading like wild fire, I saw the headlines on CBC's homepage. I'll admit that after reading it, I was enraged that something of this nature happened and I perceived the suspect as some sort of deranged monster that probably deserves to be treated the same way he treated his victim. Comment after comment in the comments area of the CBC page for this story spoke of capital punishment or how the suspect must be deranged. Reading these comments and due to the way the story was reported, I too began to feel like I was agreeing with the web users who had commented.
However, today when I read the developments of the story and there was a picture of the murderer dressed in a blue prisoner's vest with his head down walking out of the courthouse, it put the human aspect of the man back into my head. It made me remember that although this man is probably 100% guilty, we need to hear his story and see what his psychiatric assessment says. I reminded myself that I should not pass judgment on anyone before their story is heard, no matter how right or wrong it might be. The fact that the suspect looked like any other person that could be walking down the street made me remember something a wise old man once told me when I was a child:
"Everyone has the ability to be a monster or a savior, a saint or a sinner, the devil or Buddha. It is only the choices we make and how we control ourselves."
Although, we do not know the story until the investigation is completed, charges laid and the suspect tried, he might well be a normal person that just snapped. Even if that's not the case, we should be kind, loving and caring for one another to make sure nobody snaps. And if he does turn out to be someone who has mental illness, society should be better educated on mental illnesses so we can provide such individuals with the help they need in order to prevent such sad and disgusting acts.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Solar Plexus
For the past 6 weeks, every night as I have tried to fall asleep, I always thought the same thoughts. I've even had similar dreams for the past 6 weeks and more infrequently, the same dream for the past 4 years. Now that I live in the aftermath of having that dream shattered. As confused and unsure as I am about everything outside of academia, this was one of the only things I was never confused about, and yet this belief of mine is probably wrong. Oh life, why do you have to deal repeated blows to my head? Life always seems to happen like that, just when you start thinking "maybe everything will be alright now," it punches you in the solar plexus and you're left winded on the ground trying to pick yourself up.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Get busy living, or get busy dying.
It really comes down to a simple choice. Get busy living or get busy dying...
Saturday, July 5, 2008
forgive me dear, for I am a fool...
I like many who have come and gone before me, have had amazing people, love and happiness right under my nose yet have failed to recognize that in my quest to find whatever it is I'm looking for. The realization that we already have what we're looking for right before our very eyes often escape us...
Siddhartha said: "What could I say to you, Venerable One? Perhaps that you are seeking too hard? That you seek so hard that you do not find?"
"What do you mean?" asked Govinda.
"When someone seeks," said Siddhartha, "then it easily happens that his eyes see only the thing that he seeks, and he is able to find nothing, to take in nothing because he always thinks only about the thing he is seeking, because he has one goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal. You, Venerable One, may truly be a seeker, for, in striving toward your goal, you fail to see certain things that are right under your nose."
Siddhartha said: "What could I say to you, Venerable One? Perhaps that you are seeking too hard? That you seek so hard that you do not find?"
"What do you mean?" asked Govinda.
"When someone seeks," said Siddhartha, "then it easily happens that his eyes see only the thing that he seeks, and he is able to find nothing, to take in nothing because he always thinks only about the thing he is seeking, because he has one goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal. You, Venerable One, may truly be a seeker, for, in striving toward your goal, you fail to see certain things that are right under your nose."
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Caged birds...
Sometimes it makes me sad, the thought of you being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged, their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of me that knows it was a sin to lock them does rejoice, but still, the place I live in is just that much more drab and empty with them gone. I think I'll just miss you...
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Climate Change, Carbon Taxes, Global Warming, Greenshifts...
All of the above reminds me of "Child of Dust"
Dear prodigal, you are my son and I
supplied you not your spirit, but your shape.
All Eden's wealth arrayed before your eyes;
I fathomed not you wanted to escape.
And though I only ever gave you love,
like every child you've chosen to rebel.
Uprooted flowers and filled the holes with blood;
Ask not for whom they toll, the solemn bells.
A child of dust, to mother now return;
For every seed must die before it grows.
And though above the world may toil and turn,
No prying spades will find you here below.
Now safe beneath their wisdom and their feet,
Here I will teach you truly how to sleep.
Dear prodigal, you are my son and I
supplied you not your spirit, but your shape.
All Eden's wealth arrayed before your eyes;
I fathomed not you wanted to escape.
And though I only ever gave you love,
like every child you've chosen to rebel.
Uprooted flowers and filled the holes with blood;
Ask not for whom they toll, the solemn bells.
A child of dust, to mother now return;
For every seed must die before it grows.
And though above the world may toil and turn,
No prying spades will find you here below.
Now safe beneath their wisdom and their feet,
Here I will teach you truly how to sleep.
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