The Tale of the Jackfruit

Today, I ate some jackfruit. It was lovely, and I was reminded of the sweet texture and taste as well as the unusual smell of the fruit. It really took me back to my childhood days.

When I was young, my parents gave me some jackfruit to try from the tin. I believe my dad asked me to give it a try. I ate some and really enjoyed it - and told my parents this (although I no longer recall if it was both my parents or just my dad - in retrospect, it was likely just my dad as I think this happened during a time period when my parents were separated).

My dad remembered that I enjoyed it and would on occasion, as a treat for me get another tin of jackfruit. I particularly loved the syrupy stuff that it came in when it came straight from the tin - pure sugar and no wonder a kid would like it.

Years went by, but still, sometimes my dad would give me jackfruit. As his dementia progressed, he still would cut up fruit for me most nights. Different things, but almost always something I had said I enjoyed at some point in my life. Eventually, the fruit stopped and I also didn't really crave it as much anymore.

But, this story isn't really about the fruit, is it?

When we look at all of the people in our lives, all of those who have been with us since childhood, we see a plethora of people, from siblings to cousins, friends, extended family, family friends. We have those who are like our parents, like our brothers and sisters and who are acquaintances. Through all of these relationships, I would venture to say that none of them remember our preferences as well as a caring and attentive parent.

I have my own children now and I know what they love to eat and what they don't. I know, before speaking if something I say will make them upset or not. I know their dislikes and likes about as well as I know my own - better in fact because I actually spend time thinking about what they like and dislike and I don't spend the same time thinking about my own preferences. I cannot honestly say that I know anyone else as well; not my brothers, not my friends, not even my spouse.

That is the nature of a parent (at least one who tries to be a good parent) to be attentive - to remember things no one else does.

Now, no one remembers that I loved jackfruit. Even I had forgotten in the hectic pace of everyday life. I wonder what else I have forgotten about myself that only my parents really paid attention to? Cherish the parents we have, cherish a mother, a father who pays attention, because no matter how much you love another or how much they love you - there are some things that no one else can remember about you. Our parents make up an integral aspect of our identities, and the saddest part of losing a parent or both is that we lose a part of ourselves. A part that may not come back, until that one day when you inexplicably try a piece of jackfruit again.

Yours in faith and love.

My Beautiful Daughter

My daughter taught me an interesting lesson yesterday and I thought I should share it.

We were driving along and came to an intersection with a red light when she said, "Wow, look to the left, it's so beautiful."

Now, I looked towards the left and saw... a freeway... some industrial buildings, snow with fringes of yellowed grass. It was really not a scene I would describe as "beautiful."

So I asked, "What do you see that's so beautiful there?"

She replied, "Just look!"

So I began to focus in. Was she talking about the sky above the scene? It was nice, blue with some wisps of clouds. Was it the way the sunlight reflected off the windows of my car? Maybe it was that pretty little mural painted on the side of that industrial building over there in the distance? It had some sunflowers, some light colours, a bit of a mosaic really of images that were quite interesting. Or maybe it was the way the dark red bricks of that one building contrasted with the sleet, gray concrete of it's neighbour? Maybe she was captivated by a car that drove by on the freeway, or by the methodical orderliness of the lines along the road...

Then it hit me. Suddenly I saw how beautiful that industrial scene really was. Suddenly, I was seeing all of these striking images and I wondered, "How could I have been so blind?"

I agreed with her, that really was beautiful. The light turned green and we began to drive and then she said, "Did you also look to the right?"

I hadn't. But, I'll try to remember that for next time.

Starlight

I was sitting with my son in his room tonight. An important part of his bedtime routine is to look at his star projector and just be mesmerized by the moving stars, comets and moons.

The projector is on one side of his room, so if you're looking at the ceiling you see a whole plethora of multi coloured (and slightly dim) stars and lights. However, if you look at the wall that is right next to the projector, you see the same shapes but far more vividly.

This made me think about the nature of the spiritual light in each of us. Sometimes, we can look at someone, whether it be a TV personality or simply an "enlightened" individual and we may think we can see that they are spiritually connected. We can feel that connectedness. This feeling is reinforced if we listen to them speak through lectures, sermons, or seminars and gradually we can use these feelings to feel more connected ourselves.

This analogy seems very apt to me. Some individuals seem far more vivid because of where their stars are projected on the wall. Whereas the majority of us may seem more dull, less lively in some ways.

This is false.

It is important to think of what we are seeing in this metaphor. When we look at the stars on the wall, we are seeing a form of light. We are not seeing the source of the light. We are not even seeing the true "form" of the light itself, because it does not have a true form. Rather, we see something that is familiar. Something that is bright. However, what we see is an illusion.

The light itself does not differ from person to person. The light that we see so well illumined in certain individuals is the same light, the same intensity, the same wavelength in every atom that exists. We're just looking for the wrong things.

Let's all work harder to see better. The human mind is amazing, yet easy to trick. It always sees what it thinks it should. So, looking requires truly seeing and thinking.

Lessons

I've learnt many lessons from my daughter.

One of the most poignant however has been the nature of human suffering.

Recently, my little one has gotten a cold. Through this process, she's been very uncomfortable, very unhappy and quite miserable, I should know, I have it too. So, I began to think of ways to spare my child the worst elements of this sickness, which then led me to thinking of ways to reduce sickness in general. Maybe there is a country out there where we'd be less likely to get sick? Maybe being in a warmer climate may help? What if we just limit contact with others during specific times of the year?

All of these passing thoughts lead me to realize an important life lesson. We cannot avoid hardship, pain, suffering, sickness. These things are necessary. If my daughter didn't ever get sick or have a cold, her immune system wouldn't develop well. Then, if she ever needed to fight off any pathogens, her body would either over-react (allergies) or not respond appropriately leading to more sickness.

God sometimes throws hardship at us. Sometimes it is light adversity but at other times, life can get very difficult. These experiences are meant to strengthen us. Yes, it is often possible to run away from adversity. At times, we have the option of hiding or avoiding difficulties. What is the outcome? We don't grow, we don't develop.

Facing our difficulties, realizing these challenges are there for a purpose gives us meaning. This may be us imposing our own beliefs on the world, but giving meaning to experience is such a human thing to do.

Thank you my beautiful child for teaching me that I cannot keep you from harm, I cannot prevent you from growing as you are meant to grow. I cannot clip your wings - I will leave you to make that decision yourself when you can.

Waves

I was at the beach today and noticed a very odd, but well-known phenomenon.

As the waves crashed onto the shore, some of them didn’t travel very far onto the shores of the beach, but some travelled quite a ways.

We know why this is and there are a few reasons for this, but one of the most important ones has to do with interference patterns of waves, something many of us may have learned in high school physics. As a wave comes onto the shore, it hits land, slows, stops and then travels back towards the water, it’s origin. The next wave that comes onto the shore is then attenuated, because it also encounters the resistance of the first wave traveling backwards. This means that the second wave doesn’t travel as far as the first one. However, there is also a third wave. This one meets less resistance than the one prior and travels farther than its predecessor.

Sometimes, it’s a matter of timing, luck and circumstance. Sometimes, we are that first wave, the one that meets no resistance outside of natural limitations, in these cases we can really make a large impact, if we put all of our work and effort into what we do.

In some cases, we are that second wave. No matter how hard we work, there will be things that work against us, and we may not progress to the extent we work.

In other cases, we can be that third wave. We have been fortunate to be traveling on a path that has already been trodden. Many of the challenging obstacles have been removed from our path, and we can really make great progress.

So it is with most matters in our lives. At times, we can spiritually grow unencumbered, to grow into new fields, at others, our purpose is to clear a path for others, those who will come behind us, and sometimes, our purpose is to stretch the limits and boundaries.

The important thing is to try our best in all situations and to not be disheartened when things do not go our way. Nature gives us parables for all that happens in our lives. The lesson here is to do your utmost, either you will reap the benefits, or the children of our world will.

Purpose

I enjoy working. It provides me with purpose, it provides for myself and my family's needs. It also fills my days.

I wonder though at what my purpose is?

This isn't meant to be an existential question. I firmly believe one of the repercussions of having free will (whether we do or do not is debatable, but I've covered my thoughts on this in a previous post) is that we have the choice to do nothing with our lives. We do not have a set "purpose," in life, rather, we create our own purpose.

However, what is the point of daily toil? Where does it eventually lead us? If the purpose of working hard is so that one day I can retire... Why not retire now? If the purpose of daily toil is so that I can have a lifestyle where I can purchase any item or travel anywhere without working - this leaves out the value found in working. This lifestyle can be achieved easily - by lowering your standards for what you want to buy.

The point is, that working hard has it's own purpose, it is not the means to an end. It is the means and the end. Working through our lives, providing benefit to society and to ourselves is a reward and a journey in and of itself. Working with a goal in mind - like eventual retirement - will not lead to happiness.

What will lead to the elusive goal of happiness?

Finding a balance. Living a life filled with work, family, prayer and knowledge. Finding time for your soul daily, regardless of whether you're working or not. Retirement shouldn't come for any of us, because our traditional model in our North American society is flawed. When we reserve segments of our lives for work and for play, we are relegating our own lives to having useful and less useful portions.

Does this reflect a good life?

A good life is seen in a holistic way. We live good lives when we don't compartmentalize. When we don't split apart our joys and our sadnesses. When we let ourselves feel.

Often times, we judge our own emotions and feelings. I often think - why am I sad? I have nothing to be sad about. I have a wonderful life, a wonderful family and friends. However, that sublimates the emotion without examining the source of it.

Our emotions, whether positive or negative are at the end of the day wellsprings of the spirit. We feel because God wishes us to feel. Our sadnesses, our happinesses, our anger and our peace. All of these are there for a reason.

These emotions and our ability to fully experience them and explore their root causes. I have come to believe that these constitute a good life. A good life stems from letting ourselves live it. From not allowing our minds to fully compartmentalize our emotions and our time into time for work, prayer, play and family. Some degree of separation is required for us to function but perhaps this is far less than we may believe.

Live and feel. That is what makes a good life, or at least a life worth living.

Change

It becomes more and more apparent to me as I watch my son grow older that change is inevitable.

It isn't in the major things that I notice it. Yes, looking at pictures of him from even a few months ago, I notice a tremendous difference. It isn't in his eloquence, in his ability to convey himself. It isn't in the fact that he has friends, preferences, tastes that have not been inculcated in him by either parent.

It's in the little things. It's in the way one week, he'll say, "nut-king" when trying to say "nothing" and the next week, that endearing phrase is gone forever.

It is a bit sad, seeing him grow up. Seeing him change, seeing him grow into his own person. It's also the most rewarding thing I have ever done. Knowing that whatever he becomes will be based, in no small part, on me is a truly humbling thing.

I don't know what he will be. I don't know how he will grow, but I do know that whatever it is, I will be so very proud of him.

Therein is the lesson and the esoteric aspect of this. The pride we have for our children is positive. Pride is something that we see as being a negative aspect of the self, but when it is pride for another... it's a bit different.

My son still teaches me about life and about my spirit. In small lessons like not over-extending myself, to bigger ones, like realizing that the universe cannot be static.

He's my constant teacher and I am a very proud and humble student.

By the way, if my daughter ever reads this, I'll write one for you too ... when you're older. :) Don't worry, I'll always be proud of both of you.