This guy is rapidly becoming a daily must read for me. I almost always take away some nugget of wisdom, and even when I don’t I can appreicate some damn fine creative writing. Not that I don’t trust you to click a link, but I am going to reproduce his Arbor Day post in its entirety. I just like the way this guy thinks….

Arbor Day meditation

I was sitting under a tree, feeling glum.

The tree asked, “What’s up?”

I said, “You know, I’ve done things I’m proud of, and things I’m not proud of.”

The tree said, “It sounds to me like you’ve got something specific in mind.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just some things I’ve said and done recently which are bothering me.”

“I’m only a tree,” the tree said, “but I’ve been sitting in this spot for centuries, collecting wisdom from all over. Tell me what’s on your mind and maybe I can offer some insight.”

“OK,” I said, heaving a sigh. “Let’s say you’ve gotten into a fight with someone.”

“A female someone?” the tree asked slyly.

I smiled. “Yeah, a female someone. And let’s say that… well… you both said things you regret. Things you might have meant, or might not.”

“You’re not sure if you meant what you said?” asked the tree.

“No, I’m not. I really don’t know,” I replied. “I sure as hell meant them the night I said them, but now…”

“Now you think that maybe you had your head up your knothole,” said the tree wisely.

“Yeah, that’s about the size of it. But I’m still angry, see. She said some awful things that night, and it wasn’t just that night, but the night before, too. I think she meant what she’d said.”

“I see. Have you thought about simply forgiving and forgetting? Have you thought about apologizing for what you said?” asked the tree.

“Apologizing? Forgiving? Forgetting?” I asked, incredulous. “Tree, I don’t think I’m there yet. And the last things I said and wrote to her were… well, they pretty much killed any possibility of further dialogue.”

“So it seems. You strike me as something of an arrogant bastard, if you don’t mind my saying so,” said the tree.

I kept silent. The tree seized the opportunity to keep talking:

“Did you ever see that movie, Karate Kid 2?” the tree asked.

“Yeah, I remember it,” I said.

“Remember the beginning of the movie, when Mister Miyagi has the chance to kill that evil karate instructor, but he doesn’t?”

“Yeah. Pretty cool,” I said.

“Daniel-san asks him why he didn’t do it. Do you recall Mister Miyagi’s answer?”

I racked my brains. Then it hit me.

“He said, ‘For man with no forgiveness in heart, living worse punishment than death,’” I quoted. I looked up at the tree. “Are you saying I should forgive her, anyway?”

“You’re pretty good at quoting movie lines, aren’t you. Yeah; try some unilateral forgiveness,” suggested the tree.

I was angry again. “But she doesn’t think she did anything wrong,” I said, staring into the branches above me.

“And you don’t think you did anything wrong, either, do you?” asked the tree.

“I gave her so much, and she kicked me in the damn head,” I snarled.

“The selfsame head that’s stuck up your knothole?” grinned the tree.

I simply glared at the ground. It’s hard to take when a vegetable is dispensing wisdom you don’t want to hear.

The tree pressed its advantage. “Just a little while ago, you expressed regret for things you’ve said and done. At least we know you’re feeling sorry, even if you are still angry.”

“So?” I asked.

“So,” said the tree, “that’s your starting point.”

“I don’t get it,” I said.

“That’s because men are perennially stupid,” sighed the tree.

I looked up. “You’re not a guy? Not some fatherly wisdom figure?”

“Deep wisdom is always female,” laughed the tree.

“Women are fucked in the head,” I said. “They say one thing, they mean another, they don’t make any rational sense.”

“And there’s your problem in a nutshell,” said the tree. “You’re looking for sense. Do you think you can be philosophical about matters of the heart?”

“No,” I admitted. “A man can try, but… ultimately, no.”

“So– back to that starting point we talked about. I don’t know her side of the story, but it sounds to me like you’ve got some regrets. Do me a favor, would you? Try this. Stand up.”

I stood up, somewhat reluctantly.

“The wind is going to blow hard in a second,” said the tree. “When it does, just shout I’m sorry into it.”

I didn’t want to do this.

“Trust me,” the tree said, apparently reading my mind. “It’ll make you feel better.”

A slight breeze caressed my face, then began to build.

“You ready?” asked the tree. I nodded.

The wind picked up, turned harsh. The tree’s leaves rustled and its branches writhed violently. It was like watching some mysterious, inhuman struggle.

“Do it!” boomed the tree.

“I’M SORRY!” I shouted.

“The wind is still blowing! Do it again!” shouted the tree.

“I’M SORRY!” I shouted.

“Come on, keep it up! You’re making progress!” exhorted the tree.

I’m sorry…
I’m sorry…
I’m sorry…

I shouted until I was hoarse. Then I finally slumped down. I felt intensely pained, but strangely relieved. It was a bizarre, paradoxical feeling.

The wind ended.

“Not bad,” said the tree, thoroughly impressed. “Maybe the wind will carry your message to her.”

“Maybe,” I said. What was I hoping for?

“If the message reaches her, what’ll you do?” asked the tree.

I thought for a bit. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I really don’t know.”

A soft breeze rustled the tree. I thought I could hear its smile.

“One day at a time,” the tree whispered. “Just take it one day at a time.”

Thanks, Kevin.

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I walk to the office most days, which is generally more pleasant than driving and certainly better for my health. Of course it was raining when I walked home tonight and my umbrella was safely in my hall closet. Oh well, I needed a shower anyway.

So, come on, let’s go for a walk…..

I exit the apartment walk past the elevator and go down two flights of stairs….

…into the basement parking garage. That’s my lonely car in the corner…..

Then out of the garage and onto my street…..

and past my neighborhood market. Picked up some small items there on a couple of occasions…

…then it is up this hill which is steeper than it appears….

….then I climb these stairs. There are sixty steps but some mornings it feels like more…

…but at the top I turn around and am rewarded with a nice vista of the Seoul skyline…

…but work beckons, so I walk on past the Turkish restaurant which I haven’t tried…

….and walk past this Mosque (which is responsible for my wake up calls on weekends when the call the faithful to prayer. Its just background noise to me though….

…turning right onto this road….

….and then I turn right again onto the bar drag. This street has a lot of raunchy bars with expensive “drinky girls” who try to tempt you into their lair with scantily clad bodies. But none of them are up this early in the morning so I have no temptations to deal with. Which by the way I do not succumb to in the dark of night either…..

…anyway, after a couple of blocks I turn left down this alley. In the evening it is packed with food vendors, but somehow seeing unrefridgerated food exposed to the elements does not whet my appetite….

…after crossing a major intersection (and dodging city buses and taxis) I continue down this alley….

…then I climb these stairs….

…and encounter a vendor setting up for breakfast. By the way, this is right in front of my home away from home, Sweet Caroline’s….

….and the main drag through Itaewon. It is nice and quiet in the morning. By afternoon it is so packed with street vendors and tourists it is difficult to walk….plus you have to fend off the guys wanting to sell you a custom made suit. Just as irratating as the drinky girls but not nearly as good looking….

…then I stroll past Mickey D’s (and no I have not had any desire to eat a quarter pounder or whatever they call them here. Too much good food to spend time and money in there)

Ah, the Itaewon arch….gateway to sleaze and decadence. That’s not fair, it is not really so bad, you just have to know which places to avoid and I have been quite successful at that….

They have this display of kimchi pots in the median. Man, to Koreans kimchi is the staff of life. They eat it with every meal (they literally reek of it). But hey, most of them are in good shape so maybe they are on to something. I don’t love kimchi, but it is quite tasty as a side dish….

…waiting for the light to change so I can cross this monster intersection in rush hour traffic….

I have seen no graffiti in this city, but somehow this mural strikes me as worse. I don’t know why, it just gives me the willies….

….walking on I pass the subway line I have ridden all of one time….

…I encounter a glimpse of spring’s promised arrival….

…almost there now. That bridge connects Main Post from South Post. My entry gate is at the base of the bridge. Sorry, I was a bit uncomfortable taking a picture of the Korean police who provide security at the gate. There are usually 20 or so of them and they carry these BIG sticks. Also, I don’t think we are supposed to take photos on post, so the last mile of my walk you will just have to imagine. Sorry ’bout that….

Objective achieved. Here I am safely at my desk ready for another day of doing the government’s work. All told, it is just over 30 minutes door to door.

Now, don’t you feel better for the exercise? Let’s go grab a beer…..

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or does something seem just a little unbelievable about this story?

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