New Year's Song: On va s'aimer encore

Here's another great example of a video that adds striking dimension to the song it accompanies. Not that it isn't fine as it is; Vincent Vallières is among the most respected songwriters in Canada. But the juxtaposition of these images deepens the lyrics exponentially, turning Vallières' love song into a reflection on the temporal ground of being, and borrowing a few Zen references along the way. (Check out the Buddhist wheel of life at 2:32.)

It's no exaggeration to say that non-francophones could skip the translation (see below) entirely and just watch the video. With the music playing, of course.

Right from the first scene, the LP theme is genius. Not only does this medium literally spool out, turning 'round and 'round like life – till you wind down in the run-out groove – it's also legacy tech. The very sight of a phonograph record casts the mind back.

The vignettes that roll past thereafter will be recogniseable to anyone on the planet, but they have extra pathos for expats from la Belle Province: a rich reel of Québécois faces, places, and contexts that brings tears to my eyes.

Varying frame rates – slower than normal; faster; parameter – underscore the orchestral rhythms of life. It goes too fast; it goes too slow; sometimes it just goes, while we amble on unseeing. And it's all synchronised – wheels within wheels, out of our control, and for the most part beyond our comprehension.

Consider also that everyone in this dense little epigram is ten years older at this writing. The toddlers are in middle school; the small children are teenagers. The young adults have started their own journey, many including new children in turn. And some of the older subjects are almost certainly gone.

I never tire of this slide show. Another metaphor from my increasingly historical generation. As is the tone-arm return at the end, sure to provoke an emotional response in any who grew up on vinyl.

While we're up, it's also pointed Buddhist commentary on the nature of existence.

So for a tenth time, on this New Year's of 2021, I wish all my readers a promising and productive 2022, and hope to see us all back here again 12 months hence.


ON VA S'AIMER ENCORE
par Vincent Vallières

Quand on verra dans l'miroir Nos faces ridées pleines d’histoires Quand on en aura moins devant Qu’on en a maintenant Quand on aura enfin du temps Et qu’on vivra tranquillement Quand la maison s'ra payée Qu’y restera plus rien qu’à s’aimer On va s’aimer encore Au travers des doutes Des travers de la route Et de plus en plus fort On va s’aimer encore Au travers des bons coups Au travers des déboires À la vie, à la mort On va s’aimer encore Quand nos enfants vont partir Qu’on les aura vu grandir Quand ce s'ra leur tour de choisir Leur tour de bâtir Quand nos têtes seront blanches Qu’on aura de l’expérience Quand plus personne n'va nous attendre Qu’y restera plus rien qu’à s’éprendre On va s’aimer encore Au travers des doutes Des travers de la route Et de plus en plus fort On va s'aimer encore Au travers des bons coups Au travers des déboires À la vie, à la mort On va s’aimer encore Quand les temps auront changé Qu’on s'ra complètement démodés Quand toutes les bombes auront sauté Que la paix s'ra là pour rester Quand sans boussole sans plan On partira au gré du vent Quand on lèvera les voiles Devenues d'la poussière d’étoiles On va s’aimer encore Après nos bons coups Après nos déboires Et de plus en plus fort On va s’aimer encore Au bout de nos doutes Au bout de la route Au-delà de la mort On va s'aimer encore Au bout du doute Au bout de la route Au-delà de la mort On va s'aimer

When we look into the mirror And read the stories in the wrinkles When there are fewer of them ahead Than the ones we've already got And when we live peaceably With the house paid off When the only thing left for it is to love each other We'll still love each other In the doubt And the crosswalks Stronger and stronger We'll still love each other Through the triumphs And the reversals For life, till death We'll still love each other When our kids all move away When we've seen them grown When it's their turn to build Their turn to build When our hair turns white When experience is ours When no-one waits for us anymore When the only thing left to do is to fall in love again We'll still love each other In the doubt And the crosswalks Stronger and stronger We'll still love each other Through the triumphs And the reversals For life, till death We'll still love each other When the times have changed When we're completely out of style When all the bombs have exploded When peace is here to stay When, without compass or chart We'll run before the wind When we raise sails Now made of stardust We'll still love each other After our triumphs After our reversals Stronger and stronger We'll still love each other At the end of our doubts At the end of the road On the far side of death We'll still love each other Where the doubt ends When the road ends On the far side of death We'll love each other

Samsara Koan

"If you think it's hard faking your own death, try faking your own birth."

Steven Wright

(Photo courtesy of André Peltier and Wikimedia Commons.)

Who Are You Trying To Be?

Last year I linked to an excellent Jason Pargin article called 7 Reasons Americans Have Stopped Trusting One Another. (He writes under the pseudonym David Wong on Cracked.com.) I was commenting on a compelling point he makes there, to wit, what "putting yourself in someone else's shoes" implies.

But that's not the only Zen the article contains; another favourite moment relates to the 8 Worldly Dharmas, on which I posted this past August.

In Jason's words, human behaviour is ultimately directed by two desires:

1) The person you desperately want to be.

2) The person you desperately want to avoid becoming.

So that's 8WD all over again. It's also conventional Buddhism à la Thich Nhat Hanh, who emphasises the notion of mental "seeds", or impulses that arise in the mind and either get "watered" (i.e., indulged or praised) or "not watered" (left to languish).

Thich Nhat Hanh suggests we be mindful of these seeds – which exist unremarked in our minds till they sprout as actions, or even habits – and make conscious decisions to water or not water them.

And that's highly effective practice. However, I think Jason's insight – that those seeds come from somewhere too, and knowing where is important – is a necessary second level.

That thing you want – what do you think you'll accomplish with it?

That button that gets pushed – what is that wired to?

That insult that enrages you – why do you care?

That compliment you received – why does that please you? (And how about that other compliment, that leaves you unmoved – or even discomfits you. What's up with that?)

Those positive feelings that arise in a given event – what do you imagine you've accomplished?

That thing you do in a given situation - what are you trying to become, or not become, when you do that?


In Jason's terms, when you feel seeds begin to swell, you should ask yourself, "What do I want to be that's manipulating me to do/say/be this thing?", or "What do I not want to be that's manipulating me to do/say/be this thing?"

I like Jason's perspective, because it goes to the bedrock of delusion. Creating ourselves in this ephemeral world is a lot of what we do here.

If we can give that up – or at least leash it – we stand a chance of getting off this carousel.

(Photo courtesy of Unsplash.com and a generous photographer.)

Samsara

"Everything ends, and it's always sad.
But everything begins again too, and
that's always happy.

"Be happy. I'll look after everything
else."

--The Doctor

(Photo courtesy of Mark Freeman and Wikimedia Commons.)

Economics

(The following is a passage from Rough Around the Edges, a manuscript I began 20 years ago. Though my Zen practice was still about six years in the future, it's interesting to me today to read a fundamentally exact description of what the Buddha called "world weariness" – the mainspring of enlightenment practice – written in my own pre-monastic hand. Like the man said, we come by it honestly.)

The problem, the problem. What is the problem?

You're born. Somewhere, someone sets an egg timer. For a quarter-hour you rave like a rich man in a burning mansion, snatching at a vase, a string of pearls, anything to show you lived there.

The timer dings; you're unborn. The necklace falls to the ground.

We get it about wealth. The prophets have all warned us. But there are other treasures just as fleeting.

I hunger for love, to share life, and not to be alone. Except it won't do. Even if you find love, the timer still goes ding. The necklace falls to the ground.

What's the problem? I'm afraid to die alone. But I live alone. I work alone, and most of the time, I love alone.

The seconds tick. The words echo in my mind. A thought occurs:

Perhaps the most valuable thing in that house is the fire.




(Adapted from Rough Around the Edges: A Journey Around Washington's Borderlands, copyright RK Henderson. Photo of the mechanics of egg-timing courtesy of Wikimedia Commons and generous photographer.)

Past Life Haiku

Before this life, what?
Sitting, I see my last face:
Cartoon character

(Impression of "un loco a secas" courtesy of El Filoloco and Wikimedia Commons.)

Good Movie: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring

Here's one you gotta see. No, I mean you gotta see it. Because I can't describe it. (Goes on to describe movie.)

Kim Ki-duk's Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring seems to end suddenly after half an hour, then you look at your watch and 103 minutes have gone by. Movie buffs consider this a mark of excellence. What then to say about a film that still does this to you the third time you see it?

The basic story turns on the relationship between a hermit monk (shout out to the Homeless Brothers!) and an orphan left in his charge. Together they care for a temple in the middle of a remote mountain lake that doesn’t quite seem to be in this dimension; the sun speeds up and slows down, the temple rooms have no walls, and the pier it's built on drifts – upwind – without actually moving. (Or is the world drifting past it?)

Like Heraclitus' river, Spring, Summer is so packed with encoded clues that it's a new movie each time you watch it. The temple pet alone is fascinating. First it's a dog, then a cock, then a cat, and finally a snake. Why does the teenager steal the rooster? Why does the old man replace it with a cat? Is it solely to set up one of the best enlightenment metaphors ever filmed? (Plus that cat is an awesome actor. Uncredited,

of course. The Man strikes again.) And what's up with that (apparently winterised) snake?

And the koans keep coming: stunning tai-chi performed on ice by a "broken" man; a boat anchor used as penitence, from a boat that's never anchored; humiliated people literally losing their faces. And just when you're sure the whole thing takes place in some kind of snow globe, two police detectives show up. Carrying guns. And cell phones.

Unlike other "weird" movies, this one is never pretentious. Instead, Kim invites us on an Easter egg hunt, with permission to find a few even he may have missed; he's sangha, not teacher. And the insight is conveyed virtually without dialogue. What lines there are, are pithy and important. Take the old man's entire summation of the futility of greed: "The things you like, others also like."

Kim, who also plays the old hermit's successor (or predecessor, or maybe the old monk himself), gets seamless performances from his

actors: Jong-ho Kim as the mischievous, engaging child; Jae-kyeong Seo as an earnest, intense teenager; Young-min Kim as a man on the horns of yearning; and especially Yeong-su Oh, as the old hermit. Even the cops, walk-ons meant to inject you and me into the temple's universe, are skilfully out of synch. All of it gives Spring, Summer a fly-on-the-wall documentary feel, imparting a realism to the surrealism that, well, you have to see to get.

As a dissertation on samsara, it all could have been dull as dukkha, but in the end it's a very Korean film, full of humanity and passion. Just watching the director pull it off is worth the price of admission.

Finally, please be advised that none of this is accurate. Like sitting itself, the Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring that can be named is not Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter… and Spring.