Hate is like throwing a handful of shit
Onto a red hot ingot
You have to pick it up first.
Perhaps if people recognized what hate does to them personally, we could begin to see change, and maybe incidents like this in Boston allow us to see how people reach to help each other. Perhaps the focus can be there.
I picked up a book this week by Gretel Ehrlich, an author I love. This one is Facing the Wave, A Journey in the Wake of the Tsunami.
I thumb through for something to share. One chapter begins with these words: "The sea becomes light, a window is open" by Ozaki Hosai.
Gretel writes: In the seventeenth century a twelve-panel folding screen called "The Waves at Matsushima" painted in ink, powdered color, gold, and silver on thick paper by Tawaraya Sotatsu, shows rolls of combers rolling toward shore in seeming unison parting for each pine-studded island. Under the panel, I read this poem:
Island and islands
Shattered into a thousand pieces
It seems relevant.
We're excited to be going down to Moffett Field today to see the Solar Impulse. If you haven't heard about it, here is information: