The New Year Haiku Trio: A Commentary

 

Prologue

 

During mindfulness practice, it’s often the case that I’m faced with thoughts and emotions that can’t be satisfactorily expressed using conventional language. During those times, I tended to rely on rhyming poetic verse - that is, until I discovered the Haiku which I found to allow me to open my awareness to a vaster array of interpretations - especially during times when I am faced with a lot of turbulent thoughts and emotions.

 

One such time is the new ear where we may find ourselves looking back at how we spent last year. And, as I felt I needed more clarity on what 2012 meant to me as a human being, I wrote a haiku to capture my state of mind. It’s actually a haiku trio and so, I’ll go through each haiku segment and share a few personal meditations on the words as they flow:

 

A New Year Haiku Trio

From: Haiku Flow, 

URL: http://haikuflow.gordongd.com/2012/12/a-new-year-haiku-trio.html 

1

An other year is over,

Many days we have forgotten -

Dried up … like raindrops.

 

 Commentary

 

If you think about it, we only remember little of what has happened to us over the course of last year. Hopefully, we retain a sense of who we are - even if our sense of who we are (or our sense of self) is a transient one. Like all other things, we have changed as persons whether we are aware of it or not. e don’t realise it but even our bodies have literally been changed as old cells are replaced by new ones.

 

However, these changes happen so slowly and on such a minute scale that we just move on through life thinking that the only significant changes that occur are external to us. And, even then, our memories forget. This isn’t neither good nor bad. Yet, it’s sometimes the case that we take what we have for granted - even with a sense of pride and entitlement - without acknowledging or appreciating the source of all we have to keep on living as physical beings - the living world around us.  

   

2

Do we remember?

The tears shed, laughter shared… Do we?

Yet, this is our life….

 

Commentary

 

These verses follow on the theme of time and impermanence. At the same time, it goes beyond that and compels us to ask ourselves what, exactly, have we learned from life during the course of this year. While we may have gained plenty of knowledge and experience. We may have had many experiences of suffering and joy, but if we didn’t take the time to reflect on what we have gone through, where these moments in our life worthwhile? 

 

While we cannot change our bodies and minds in radical ways, we have a choice whether we grow out of the experiences we encounter in life or give up and indulge in a life where we blame others (hate), believe our solutions are external (desire) or go on through life without being (ignorance). These three poisons often might lead us to pursue the same life and ineffectual strategies that we have grown used to. Unfortunately, growth that resists change and doesn’t allow change is no growth at all. On the other hand, change that is made for the sake of it can be equally toxic.

 

3

Another year is born.

Our chance to live again. Anew.

To be here. Fully.

 

 

Commentary

 

This last verse of the haiku trio I wrote appears to be an invitation to accept life as it comes. At least, now that I read it again, it’s not just about a new year. For, in truth, given the different ways humankind has measured time, any day can be a new year. And, yes, in many ways, a new day is a new year. In truth, if you take away the fuss that we make out of adding a number to a calendar year and creating a day when we can take time off work, a new year’s day is just another day. It follows that it doesn’t have to be a new year to compel us to improve on our ways. Everyday offers us the possibility to grow and change. Everyday is the opportunity to experience our life in  its full potential.

 

And, perhaps, this is the main reflection underpinning the haiku trio. That, in order to live our full potential as human beings, we first need to recognise who we are in the world. We may dream to fly like birds, but our bodies are currently not equipped to fly. However, we can fly because some have considered the limitations imposed to us by nature and explored solutions around these apparent limitations. However, the reality of things had to be factored in so that we could, in some way, be able to fly.

 

Concluding Remarks

 

I don’t think I should add more commentary. I just hope this has provided you, the reader, with some food for thought. I remind you that the reflections I make in the haiku I wrote for Haiku Flow attempts to capture that sense of impermanence and transience. While below I provide my own interpretation of what the haiku verses appear to tell me, other ideas about its meaning to you might 

 

Meditations in Watercolour...

It’s official. I will be moving soon to my new house at Qawra. This house, made possible thanks to the funding and support of, mainly, the local Church and the state, was officially opened. Given that, behind this project, there were important stakeholders, it was inevitable that this event was covered by local media.

I was asked to be one of the speakers. As one of the three residents who are going to live there, I was chosen to write a short speech and deliver it during the official opening. I am not a stranger to public speaking but I always get a little bit anxious before speaking. Especially since I was asked to talk about an event which will radically change my life and the lives of two other mates who I will be sharing my house with.

In my speech, I wanted to convey two main ideas as I reflect ed on what this move would mean to me as a disabled person. I remember how I often thought about the prospect of living on my own but, recent occasions when my health and general condition regressed, I feared that this dream would remain just that. A dream. So, when I was asked whether I would want to live in my own place, I grabbed the opportunity. I had my doubts, of course and I still do.But, sometimes, you must take a leap into the unknown.

In my speech, I also wanted to express my deepest thoughts about this important moment in my life. I expressed my hopes that, together with my mates, this building will not remain a construction made of stones but, I hope will become a community of friends. We chose to call our new home “Akwarell”, which is the Maltese word for “water colour painting” and I explained how our individual differences as disabled people could be compared to the colours found on an artists’ palette. We all have our distinct qualities. We all have our unique beauty. Yet, like the blend of colours found in a water colour painting, together we can create a thing far greater than who we are as individuals.

Another reflection I shared concerned the question of independence. I tried to explain what I meant to me to live independently. That is wasn’t about doing everything on my own. That it wasn’t about denying the support of others. I tried to explain how independence meant to me, as a disabled person, the opportunity to make choices over my life. And even if I may need the support and assistance of others to realise my choices, as long as it’s my decision, then I’m independent. I also reflected on the fact that nobody in real life is truly completely independent from another as we all, disabled or not, depend on one another to live in this world (1).

Finally, I talked about how all the people in my life have contributed to making this moment possible. How, if it wasn’t for the people who sustained me throughout my life - my parents, family, friends, work mates and many others I knew and others I didn’t know - I might have been a different person. I also talked about how if it hadn’t been for visionaries like Mons Azzopardi, a charismatic priest, who worked to promote the idea that we, disabled people, had a right to an equal human dignity which challenged the false idea of charity which belittled us to inferior examples of human beings. I expressed my gratitude because thanks to people like Mons Azzopardi and those who followed in his footsteps, Mons Gatt and Fr Micallef (today), that we have a culture shift also in the Church (2).

Even if I am committed to Buddhist practice, I cannot deny that if it hadn’t been for the good works carried out by the Church in ensuring social justice, I wouldn’t have the opportunity today to live my life to its full potential. I’m also grateful for this and for being able to have a choice in how I live my life and in how to express my authentic being. I remain indebted to the many people who have helped me every step of the way. That, I may never be able to repay. I decided to spend this weekend at home where I have lived most of my life. I’m sure I’ll have moments of doubt on whether I was really ready to make this transition.

However, I feel that, as with any change, there will always be a degree of uncertainty. It’s part of the process of life and refusing to accept the cycle of change leads to decay and death. I will be probably doing a lot of meditation over the coming weekend. However, I trust that this change will bring me new experiences and a fresh insight into who I am and on my relation to others and the world.

For now, I can just say thank you to all those who helped me get to where I am today. To who I am today. Thank you!



Footnotes:
(1) This idea was inspired by the idea of co-dependence found in Buddhist teachings, or the idea that everything depends on another to exist.
(2) Another idea borrowed from dharma, or the idea that we create and are created simultaneously by other objects in the world (whether material or abstract).