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February 2001
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Thursday, April 26, 2007 - Zen Nostalgia
How ironic. Every year for christmas I get a this Page-a-Day Zen calendar, where every new day has a few short sentences on enlightenment, or a nice idyllic poem or haiku. It's a tradition for my mom to get them for my dad and me since, well before I went away to college. It's also been a tradition for me to save the ones that really make an impact, taping them top to bottom to form immensely long paper rolls of quotes. It struck me today, after reading one of the quotes, how non-zen and materialistic this practice is. For the past couple of weeks I've been realizing just how tied to nostalgia, and specifically nostaligic things, I am. When Hannah came up to visit everyone came over and we played Hitler has Bad Gas, which, for lack of a better term, is a party game amounting to pictorial "Telephone." I'm sure that if I searched hard enough (and it probably wouldn't be too hard, knowing how specific I can be about storing things in their right places) I could find the scrolls from the last time she came to visit right after we first moved into the place. On the one hand, I really like the collection of thoughts. They're interesting and powerful, maybe even mildly sublime, compiled like that. But on the other hand, their collection and bottling seems silly at best and hypocritical at worst. Most of what they say and mean leads to a continued rediscovery, not a single discovery, tape it to the wall, and never think about it again because it's always there. If I really understood them, I wouldn't keep them all neatly organized, in sight but out of mind. I mostly throw them away now after their day is done, but I still keep a few.
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