Thursday, May 13, 2010
It was twenty years ago when I set under a magnificent tree and started writing what later would become “One Time” – an autobiographic diary which allowed me to look into myself. Twenty years have passed, but the desire to be truthful remains, and so does the understanding that writing is a most wonderful way of enriching one’s life. By simply revealing to yourself what you are going through you become more truthful, and the quality of your life improves. Many things that we go through every day and that are meaningful are left forgotten. When writing, they reappear - like remembering a dream from last night - their meaning is revealed and we learn more about ourselves and become more fulfilled.
But of course there are social filters. One can yearn to be completely truthful with oneself, but once the process of writing is open to the public like it is here, certain familiar filters are imposed on the writing. Yet, I feel very strongly that what I would like to do now is to write an open diary that would not only improve the quality of my life by attempting to be truthful with myself, but will allow me to share my experiences with others and will allow you to comment on my experiences and share yours. I also know that I don’t want each entry into this blog to be heavily edited or worked on over more than one session. Rather, I think of this writing process as free improvisation – a vehicle which allows me to document my experiences and share them with you. Those so-called social filters become what the form of a song is to an improvisation on that same song: by limiting its structure it enriches its content.
And here we are, twenty years after the first words of One-Time were written – the book which I started in 1989 and which I still haven’t finished. Today is Thursday, May 13, 2010: I went down to the wonderful Japanese garden beneath my apartment in Boston. It is a little magnificent spiritual garden with a small fish-pond hosting about twenty red-and-white fish. They are swimming in the somewhat murky water besides me, as I am seated on the wooden floor of the small terrace which is by the water, writing on my laptop. It is so wonderful to simply sit and write like this, to type away the next thought that comes to my mind, to acknowledge my existence while a wonderful breeze of air momentarily cools off this beautiful sunny day.