…new to say. But maybe that’s not a bad thing. Writer Pico Iyer has an interesting article called “The beauty of the ordinary”:(found via Althouse)
Put differently, how might we be enchanted by discovery’s opposite — routine — and find in constancy a stimulation as rich as novelty provides?“To learn something new,” the wise explorer John Burroughs noted, “take the path that you took yesterday.” A knowing friend in New York sent me that line when he heard that I’d spent 26 years in the same anonymous suburb in western Japan, most of that time traveling no farther than my size 8 feet can carry me.
For me at least, it’s about finding the right mix of old and new. This morning I walked my familiar path down Rizal street, around Abra road, back to the National highway, along Barretto and Baloy beaches, then onward to home. I marveled at how the market stalls had been torn down on Rizal. I sadly wondered what happened to the occupants of the now demolished squatter houses on Abra. And I was surprised at seeing the lowest tide I can remember on the beach. Everything old seemed new again somehow.
Anyway, last night I was drinking beers in Alaska. This morning I had breakfast in Arizona. I get around some, don’t I? And I never even had to leave my beloved Barrio Barretto.
And that’s just about all I’ve got for you faithful readers today. Well, this cracked me up:
I’m so sick of American politics. It’s good to mock the lefty hypocrites (but I repeat myself) in Canada for a change.
No I’d rather go and journey
Where the diamond crescent’s glowing
And run across the valley
Beneath the sacred mountain
And wander through the forest
Where the trees have leaves of prisms
And break the light in colors
That no one know the names ofAnd when it’s time I’ll go and lay
Beside the legendary fountain
‘Till I see her form reflected
In its clear and jewelled waters
And if you think I’m ready
You may lead me to the chasm
Where the rivers of our visions
Flow into one anotherI will want to dive beneath the white cascading waters
She may beg, she may plead, she may argue with her logic
And mention all the things I’ll lose
That really have no value in the end she will surely know
I wasn’t born to follow
Not sure who this “Pico Ivar” guy is, but I’ve heard of Pico Iyer. He got a lot of shit when it came out that he’d lived in Japan for decades but still wasn’t conversant in Japanese. I had to wonder about that, too, but since I’ve already ranted about expat lack of curiosity and all that stuff, I’ll sully your comment thread no further with my self-righteous bile.
Love the Trudeau pic. And for once, it’s a relief to see a restaurant that actually gives you enough sauce to go with your quesadilla!
I work with a twitchy, easily distracted, always-looking-for-new-stimuli colleague who hates doing the same walks we do every day. I tell him I see something new every time we do the same walk. It’s just a matter of paying attention and not sweeping seemingly minor details under the rug with a “yeah, yeah—been there, seen that.”
Damn, that kind of unforced spelling error really rankles. I meant to go back and double-check the name, and then I neglected to do so. Utter sloppiness! Fixed now, thanks for the heads up.
Yeah, I vaguely recall hearing about Iyer, but have never followed him. It was pure coincidence that I found his piece after having just experienced something similar on my morning walk. He hasn’t learned the language? Gaesaekki! (modestly demonstrating my level of Korean skills after over 10 years in country)
Yeah, they gave me a shitload of sour cream, but I mostly used the salsa that also came with the quesadillas.
Yeah, even the most familiar paths will have subtle changes. Sometimes it is just different people out on the street. Or a new flower blossoming. I listen to music when I walk alone, and sometimes just a different song playing changes my mood and perceptions.