The rain still falls, life’s like a boisterous sea / How do you know that a gravestone feels no pain? / Please let the rain pass over this vast region / Even the stones will need each other for the days to come. [Trịnh Cộng Sơn]
The theory of relativity brings authenticity to a question and perhaps “legitimizes” a common quip.
Question — When do we call “it” cold and when is it no longer hot?
I found myself living in a frigid Fargo North Dakota winter in 7th grade. I was transplanted there from the warmer damp climate of Darmstadt Germany. At the peak of that winter, it remained below zero for 30 days…the wind would blow drifts of snow that would cover sides of houses and force livestock to gather around a 20 foot high tower of dried cow chip coals, that glowed all winter…the wind stopped, the temperature rose to 10 degrees above zero and I learned the power of the mind. I adopted a practice of focusing on warmth and was never cold again that winter.
Quip — It Is What It Is! [I.I.W.I.I.]
This street version of the theory of relativity simply translates to “one person’s garbage is another person’s treasure.”
The classic Vietnamese love song, Diêm Xua, asks “How do you know that a gravestone feels no pain?” I have learned that we all have pains along with measures and customized coping mechanisms. We define our limits…our breaking points.
The rain still falls, life’s like a boisterous sea / How do you remember the traces the migrating birds left behind? / Please let the rain pass over this vast region / So the wanderer can forget he’s wandering. [Trịnh Cộng Sơn]
I humbly await a gift called tomorrow and know if I am blessed to be present, there will be “noise” serving as tempting distractions which I can choose to receive as pain or elevate my receptors to make sweet lemonade of the day to quell my thirst.
Originally published at medium.com