Nagasaki. In the ruins of Japan’s oldest Christian cathedral,
they found one remain: the burnt out face from a statue of the Virgin
Mary. Her features ashen, eyes tortured into black pits, a medusa stare of
horror within her peaceful transcendent gaze. Our death-mask of humanity.
One sinks into onsen, hidden in a forest watched by wild
deer, listening to the wind rustle morning mist into glistening leaves.
‘Open to the talent of ancestors
Open to the
talent of our selves
Open to the
talents of others
Open to the
talents of our world’
To replenish.
To see, refreshed, the focus and purpose of charity. The saving, the stabilising, the preventing; where is the cause? We are an athlete becoming
faster, no longer aware of what is the race. Lost in a net of our own keeping, origin
is a distant mountain. Fuji’s mysterious
peek-a-boo.
Cogs of the universe turn at the Temple in perfected ritual.
Sutra and incense to ease a soul sickened from the West’s gorging reason. You impact by being the transformation you
seek for others. Yet the systems we work within persist in such conflict. What
structures has reason shaped in our hearts, to shift the paradigm of thinking
we cherish but are not?
Disadvantage is our product. An ugly show-room car of the
way we think, the values we feel. Mass
produced. Branded. Promoted.
Sold in an industry like a range of breakfast cereals offering both the
sugary policies of poverty and the healthy options of charity. Eaten blindly. Another New Year sale, another diet of good intentions failed.
Staring back into Yokohama sky, a cargo boat snails silver across
the horizon, shifting heavy ripples of purpose to the shore. The sands on the beach below me cannot
contain all our suffering. Opportunity lies,
but not in the grains – it is the problems within us. We stand so shy in the
mirror to ourselves.
Military helicopters hum overhead, spinning angrily towards
an imaginary war of clouds. Breaking nature. And now I fly, over Murmansk, arms stretched to
home. What is inside: what is
outside. We are the measure and impact; the
story to sweep the beach and reveal our mountain; the catalyst of experience to
collaborate us together again.
The airport luggage belt laden with
shapes from many travels turns in an infinite Escher puzzle. Which one will
you choose? How? Who? To where? There are three cases to each item of luggage: our today is both what we solve from yesterday and create for tomorrow.
I watch people push past with nothing to declare. They become invisible in the sterile glare of arrivals. Then I too follow, a different Humpty Dumpty.
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