Wednesday, November 9, 2011
I’m glad to see you
at Joe Fortes Library.
Date: Tue., Nov 8, 2011 4:04 PM
What a big surprise yesterday!
I was expecting to see you on Wednesday or Thursday if you would ever show up at Joe Fortes Library.
So you appeared when I was not utterly prepared for that!
Anyway I was glad to know that you were sparkling as brightly as the happiest woman in the whole world.
That certainly told me that you’re getting along with your boyfriend quite well. Right? :)
Although I wrote some negative aspects about your relationship in my blog, I knew that you were considerate, open-minded, warm-hearted, and well-cultured so that you must have found a man of the same character.
I’m pretty sure that your relation with your boyfriend will last long, if not for a hundred years. :)
Incidentally, do you think, I looked fat?
Actually, I couldn’t eat jelly-fry in my home town, Gyoda, as much as Madame Taliesin who was crazy about the not-so-yummy fry.
I asked Madame Taliesin why she liked it so much.
Madame Taliesin said that she could taste the happy memories of Gyoda whenever she ate jelly-fry, and that she didn’t really care about the real taste of the grub.
Come to think of it, I recall so many happy occasions with Madame Taliesin in Gyoda.
What kind of happy occasions?—you might ask :)
Well…, Madame Taliesin and I liked to stroll in the park of thousand-plus-year-old lotus flowers, which we call “Paradise flowers.” Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, …
Lotus Park in Gyoda
By the way, a couple of days ago, I read “Gift from the Sea” written by Anne Morrow Lindbergh—the wife of the famous American aviator.
As you know, she experienced the worst tragedy of the 20th century.
Tragedy of the 20th century
Yet apparently she overcame it because she gave birth to five more children after the sad incident.
Her book in Japanese was reprinted more than 30 times—a bestseller in other words.
It became a modern-day classic in Japan.
I read the book in English for the first time.
What is so fascinating about the book?—you may ask.
Well…, I was impressed by her elegant and wise meditations on youth and age, love and marriage, solitude and relations, friends and family as she set them down during a brief vacation by the ocean.
Besides, Madame Lindbergh reminds me of you. :) He, he, he, he, he, …
“What makes you think so, Kato?”—you may ask. :)
So, I’ll write an article about it tomorrow.
…hope you’ll enjoy reading it.
Your truly romantic Taliesin,
So, Kato, you’re telling me what makes you think that I’m like Madame Lindbergh, aren’t you?
Oh yes, I am. I’ve realized that you seldom talk to me about your church, but I’m pretty sure that the church is your central part—something you cannot live without, right?
Well, I’d say so. Some people don’t like to hear religious things, you know. And you aren’t a religious person, are you?
No, I’m not.
So, what makes you think I’m like Madame Lindbergh? I haven’t experienced any tragedy in my whole life—let alone a kidnap and a murder.
I’m not saying that Madame Lindbergh and you have a tragedy in common.
Then, are you saying that she and I have church activities in common?
Yes, I am. Madame Lindbergh wrote like this:
The church is still a great centering force for men and women, more needed than ever before… But are those who attend as ready to give themselves or to receive its messege as they used to be? Our daily life does not prepare us for contemplation. How can a single weekly hour of church, helpful as it may be, counteract the many daily hours of distraction that surround it? If we had our contemplative hour at home we might be readier to give ourselves at church and find ourselves more completely renewed. For the need for renewal is still there. The desire to be accepted whole, the desire to be seen as an individual, not as a collection of functions, the desire to give oneself completely and purposefully pursues us always, and has its part in pushing us into more and more distractions, illusory love affairs, or the haven of hospitals and doctors’ offices.
The answere is not in going back, in putting woman in the home and giving her the broom and the needle again. A number of mechanical aids save us time and energy. But neither is the answer in dissipating our time and energy in more purposeless occupations, more accumulations which supposedly simplify life but actually burden it, more possessions which we have not time to use or appreciate, more diversions to fill up the void.
In other words, the answer is not in the feverish pursuit of centrifugal activities which only lead in the end to fragmentation. … She will be shattered into a thousand pieces. On the contrary, she must consciously encourage those pursuits which oppose the centrifugal forces of today. Quiet time alone, contemplation, prayer, music, a centering line of thought or reading, of study or work. It can be physical or intellectual or artistic, any creative life proceeding from oneself. It need not be an enormous project or a great work. But it should be something of one’s own. Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day—like writing a poem, or saying a prayer. What matters is that one be for a time inwardly attentive.
Woman must be the pioneer in this turning inward for strength. In a sense she has always been the pioneer. Less able, until the last generation, to escape into outward activities, the very limitations of her life forced her to look inward. And from looking inward she gained as inner strength which man in his outward active life did not as often find. But in our recent efforts to emancipate ourselves, to prove ourselves the equal of man, we have, naturally enough perhaps, been drawn into competing with him in his outward activities, to the neglect of our own inner springs. Why have we seduced into abandoning this timeless inner strength of woman for the temporal outer strength of man? This outer strength of man is essential to the pattern, but even here the reign of purely outer strength and purely outward solutions seems to be waning today. Men, too, are being forced to look inward—to find inner solutions as well as outer ones. Perhaps this change marks a new stage of maturity for modern extrovert, activist, materialistic Western man. Can it be that he is beginning to realize that the kingdom of heaven is within?
SOURCE: pp. 54-58
“Gift from the Sea”
by Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Published in 1955
Vintage Books, New York
I see her point.
Do you agree on that?
Yes, I do. Very much so. Kato, do you also think that the kingdom of heaven is within?
Yes, I do—most definitely.
You sound as religious as I do, don’t you?
I doubt. Anyway, I looked into the later life of Madame Lindbergh. Diane, you might be interested in the following passage:
Anne’s Later Life
Over the course of their 45-year marriage, Charles and Anne lived in New Jersey, New York, England, France, Maine, Michigan, Connecticut, Switzerland, and Hawaii.
Charles died on Maui in 1974. Though he never showed it, Charles was hurt by Anne’s three-year affair in the early 1950s with her personal doctor. This may have led to the fact that from 1957 until his death in 1974, Charles had an affair with a Bavarian woman 24 years his junior, whom he supported financially.
The affair was kept secret, and only in 2003, after Anne and the mistress were both dead, did DNA testing prove that Charles had fathered the mistress’s three children. One child came to suspect that Lindbergh was their father and made her suspicions public, after finding among her dead mother’s effects snapshots of, and letters from, Charles.
Charles is also suspected of having fathered children by a sister of his Bavarian mistress and by his personal secretary.
All this may have contributed to the stoic character of Anne’s later life.
After suffering a series of strokes in the early 1990s, which left her confused and disabled, Anne continued to live in her home in Connecticut with the assistance of round-the-clock caregivers.
During a visit to her daughter Reeve’s family in 1999, she came down with pneumonia, after which she went to live near Reeve in a small home built on Reeve’s Vermont farm, where Anne died in 2001 at the age of 94 from another stroke.
Reeve Lindbergh’s book “No More Words” tells the story of her mother’s last years.
Reeve Lindbergh Interview
SOURCE: “Anne Morrow Lindbergh”
Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Wow!…I did’t know that both got involved in love affairs.
Yes, each one of them stepped into an extramarital relation.
Did Madame Lindbergh write about it?
I’ve got the same question, Diane. So, I looked for any passage regarding her thought about it, and have luckily found it.
For not only do we insist on believing romantically in the “one-and-only”—the one-and-only love, … the one-and-only security—we wish the “one-and-only” to be permanent, ever-present and continuous. The desire for continuity of being-loved-alone seems to me “the error bred in the bone” of man. For “there is no one-and-only,” as a friend of mine once said in a similar discussion, “there are just one-and-only moments.”
One comes in the end to realize that there is no permanent pure-relationship and there should not be. It is not even something to be desired. The pure relationship is limited, in space and in time. In its essence it implies exclusion. It excludes the rest of life, other relationships, other sides of personality, other responsibilities, other possibilities in the future. It excludes growth.
One learns to accept the fact that no permanent return is possible to an old form of relationship; and, more deeply still, that there is no holding of a relationship to a single form. This is not tragedy but part of the ever-recurrent miracle of life and growth. All living relationships are in process of change, of expansion, and must perpetually be building themselves new forms.
SOURCE: pp. 72-75
“Gift from the Sea”
by Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Published in 1955
Vintage Books, New York
Wow!… What a thought-provoking idea!
Do you really think so?
Yes, I do. It’s amazing. The above book was published in 1955, wasn’t it?
Yes, it was.
She must have been a futuristic, progressive woman at the time.
I think so, too.
So, Kato, what have you gained from the book?
A good question, Diane…Well, Madame Lindbergh quoted Rilke.
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
René Karl Wilhelm Johann Josef Maria Rilke, better known as Rainer Maria Rilke, was a Bohemian–Austrian poet.
He is considered one of the most significant poets in the German language.
His haunting images focus on the difficulty of communion with the ineffable in an age of disbelief, solitude, and profound anxiety: themes that tend to position him as a transitional figure between the traditional and the modernist poets.
He wrote in both verse and a highly lyrical prose.
Among English-language readers, his best-known work is the Duino Elegies; his two most famous prose works are the Letters to a Young Poet and the semi-autobiographical Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge.
He also wrote more than 400 poems in French, dedicated to his homeland of choice, the canton of Valais in Switzerland.
SOURCE: “Rainer Maria Rilke”
Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Tell me about the quote.
It goes like this:
A complete sharing between two people is an impossibility, and whenever it seems, nevertheless, to exist, it is a narrowing, a mutual agreement which robs either one member or both of his fullest freedom and development.
But, once the realization is accepted that, even between the closest human beings, infinite distances continue to exist, a wonderful living side by side can grow up, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole and againt a wide sky!
Wow!…what a beautiful image! But I wonder who can achieve it in actual life?
You could be the first, Diane… Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, …
Yes, yes, yes, … That is a lovely image.
How wonderful it is!
If possible, both should be able to grow in a relationship.
That’s an ideal, isn’t it?
Come to think of it, I’ve never met a decent man in my life.
How come I’m always a loner?
I wish I could meet a nice gentleman at the library in my town as Diane met Kato.
Well, they say, there is a way where there is a will.
Have a nice day!
Bye bye …
If you’ve got some time,
Please read one of the following artciles:
■“Catherine de Medici”
■“Catherine the Great”
■“I wish you were there!”
■“Jane Eyre Again”
■“Jane Eyre in Vancouver”
■“Jane Eyre Special”
■“Love & Death of Cleopatra”
■“Spiritual Work or What?”
■“What a coincidence!”
■“Wind and Water”
■“Yoga and Happiness”
■“You’re in a good shape”
■“Net Travel & Jane”
■“Madame Riviera and Burger”
■“Roly-poly in the North”
■“Diane in Paris”
■“Diane in Montmartre”
■“Diane Well Read”
■“Squaw House and Melbourne Hotel”
■“Tulips and Diane”
■“Diane in Bustle Skirt”
■“Diane and Beauty”
■“Lady Chatterley and Beauty”
■“From Canada to Japan”
■“From Gyoda to Vancouver”
■“Midnight in Vancouver”
Hi, I’m June Adames.
Halloween is over, now.
But, have you ever wondered when Halloween guising started?
As you know, children disguised in costume go from door to door for food or coins.
It is a traditional Halloween custom.
The guising is recorded in Scotland at Halloween in 1895, where masqueraders in disguise carrying lanterns made out of scooped-out turnips, visited homes to be rewarded with cakes, fruit and money.
The practice of Guising at Halloween in North America is first recorded in 1911, where a newspaper in Kingston, Ontario reported children going “guising” around the neighborhood.