End of Summer

Sun in the heaven.

Abundance in great measure. 

Supreme success,

In the midst of impermanence. 

- Deng Ming-Dao

Sado Island: The Earth Celebration Festival

It was only a week ago today when I had the opportunity to leave Japan's mainland for the first time in over a year and spend 3 marvelous days on Sado Island, Niigata Prefecture. I had decided to visit it since last September when I first heard of the Earth Celebration concert which takes place annually in this remote and beautiful location.

Now, I won't get into the specific details of the event, you are more than welcome to read all about it by clicking here.  The essence of the concert is summed up best in Jun Akimoto's words: "sense one another, resonate, inflame, become one". This is of course better understood (and experienced) the moment the audience begins to hear the sound of a simple... yet powerful Japanese drum-like instrument known as taiko. One can actually feel the drums' resonance within by simply placing a hand against one's chest. If you can imagine such captivating sound surrounded by a 3,000+ audience in an outdoor setting on the top of a hill and under the stars and moonlight (+ the drink of your choice)... then you can probably begin to grasp what the experience felt like. Now multiply that * 3 days in a fairly isolated and rustic island about two and a half hours by ferry from Japan's mainland with nothing to see from shore other than the captivating blue expanse of the Sea of Japan.

Not surprisingly, there were many highlights that weekend, but there was one in particular which I feel captures the very essence of why I wanted to go there in the first place. It all started with a drum - an Indonesian drum to be precise - which I happened to buy Saturday morning as I strolled around the Harbor Market. There was something about this particular drum which caught my eye from among many others. The moment I held in my hands, proceeded to play it and heard its unique sound for the very first time... I couldn't put it down. I payed cash, stored it in my car's trunk and went on with wherever the flow was willing to take me.

Half a day later I found myself on Sobama beach, where my friend Sandra and I had camped the previous night, around midnight. I took the drum out and Sandra grabbed my guitar and we sat in the darkness by the water as the moon and the stars illuminated the skyline. Within minutes, a stranger approached us and politely asked if he could join us. Consequently, another stranger came by and sat along with us while Sandra and I carried on with our improv jamming session. An hour went by and we shared a few stories with the two gentlemen that had joined us. Eventually, one of them asked me if I had ever played the drum on the beach in Vancouver before.

"Of course! At a place called Wreck Beach by my university's campus. The only difference is that we would often have a bon-fire going and there would be five or six people with drums as well", I remember saying.

It was getting "late" so we began making our way back to our tent at around 1:30 am. Suddenly, my ear spotted the sound of another drum in the distance. As I walked closer and closer to it, I decided to ask if I could join in.

"Yes, Yes! Please sit!" said the voice of the frenchman.

Within minutes, a Japanese man with a drum decided to show up and so we had 3 completely different drums going at it.

"We need a fire!" I remember saying.

However, I was so in tune with the connection I had with my drum and the sound of the other two drummers that before I had even realized what was happening, a perfectly built bon-fire became lighten up right in front of me.

 It was UNBELIEVABLE. Talk about the law of attraction at its finest.

In any case, we drummed and drummed while people danced around the fire. More and more people came to join us, including a Japanese fire-performer who began to move around a Bo-staff with fire on both ends as if enchanted by the sound from our drums.

"Talk about an EARTH CELEBRATION", someone called out loud.

We had everything we could possibly need in that moment - the fire, the sea, the sand, the wind, our drums, the moon, the spectacular skyline with the Milky Way clearly visible, and each other. 

And no... there was no alcohol or drugs involved; something which none of us came to realize until around 5 am when we decided to call it a night in order to wake up early and take part in the last day of the concert. Perhaps it was this which made it that much more memorable, that much REAL. Complete strangers who parted as friends; brought together by the sound of the drum.

It was accumulation of a truly spontaneous day, which involved nothing other than letting the flow take us to wherever it wanted to go. No plan. No itinerary. Merely flow and the ability and willingness to be open to the moment. 

A few hours later, I boarded the ferry on the way back to the mainland. I took out my book of choice for the weekend and opened a page at random. I end this post with its passage:

Siddartha listened. He was now listening intently, completely absorbed, quite empty, taking in everything. He felt that he had now completely learned the art of listening. He had often heard all this before, all these numerous voices in the river, but today they sounded different. He could no longer distinguish the different voices - the merry voice from the weeping voice, the childish voice from the manly voice. They all belonged to each other: the lament of those who yearn, the laughter of the wise, the cry of indignation and the groan of the dying. They were all interwoven and interlocked, entwined in a thousand ways. And all the voices, all the goals, all the pleasures, all the good and evil, all of them together was the world. All of them together was the stream of events, the music of life. 

When Siddartha listened attentively to this river, to this song of a thousand voices, when he did not bind his soul to any one particular voice and absorb it in his Self, but heard them all, the whole, the unity, then the great song of a thousand voices consisted of one word. 

- Herman Hesse, Siddartha

Rowing Through the Memories: Making the Connections

       Yesterday I had the opportunity to lead an English camp for Tsuruga students with the help of 6 more ALTs. As I made my final preparations for a powerpoint presentation the night before, I connected one my external hard-drives in search for some pictures and... I was immediately taken for a wild ride along memory lane. What began as a quick search for a few pictures became a nostalgic remembrance of some of the most memorable moments of the story of my life. Of these, it was this picture of the Royal Canadian Henley Regatta in 03' which spoke most to me. 

It's true, pictures do speak a thousand words, but I'm often left thinking how differently each picture is seen and interpreted by the viewer. In any event, I really don't feel like trying to explain what this picture represents and means to me. Suffice to say that this was the one perfect race that so many strive for and few ever find. 

Building upon this image, I'd like to emphasize something I once heard Steve Jobs say: 'life must be lived forward, but can only be understood backwards'. In life like in rowing, we often move forward without really knowing for certain where it is we are going. The important thing is to know that we are moving, and that we aren't stuck somewhere. But in order to let our motion carry us forward, we must put to use all that we've learned in each of the strokes we have already taken prior to being where we currently find ourselves in. Eventually, after all the sweat, tears, blood, setbacks, and hard work necessary to help us learn how to row and flow smoothly and balanced harmoniously together, the waters begin to open way for that perfect moment of clarity. Dot by dot, stroke by stroke one begins to see how closely related every single experience of one's life is with the present situation one finds oneself in. In this sense, I cannot help but smile knowing fully well that I've played my cards well, and that regardless of how uncertain the future may be, I am confidently rowing forward while I happily look back at all that I've done. 

Above all, I've come to realize that I am truly living the life I've always imagined rather than following the recipe lifestyle that the media and society tries so hard to glorify - often successfully. Perhaps, the greatest satisfaction comes from beginning to see where my place is in the overall picture. One which regardless of how big or small may be, is as important as anyone else's. 

Thus, I ROW forward... sometimes gently... sometimes powering up, but never letting my inertia come to rest until every single dot connection comes to show me the final picture of what I'm meant to be. 

Row your boat. 

You are meant to move. 

For whether there be gentle or violent waters,

Yours is the power to move forward confidently, knowing that all that you've done has prepared you to be exactly where you are at in every moment.

ROW on...