july 14th, 2019

by Kitty Truong

feeling: grateful

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The effortless Shinkansen rode us from Tokyo to Hiroshima on a clear Monday. We stopped at Nagoya Station to satiate our curiosity for a traditional sumo tournament and my mind wandered to weird places. I wondered at the fact that we cheered enthusiastically when the battle was dramatic, otherwise most of us retreated to our corner of the world. The need for drama drives our attention span and interests daily. It’s manifested in news cover, media, and the arts, in how we have infiltrated the world with war and violence, jealousy and sins; The dramatic tales of conflicts unfold throughout history. This thought resided with me onto the next day as we came to learn of the excruciating stories enshrined in Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum. We were shown explicitly the tales and faces of the dead, the survivors, and the moaners. The emotional ownership behind every exhibit was what gave legitimacy to the historical statistics and facts. Sobered, the petrifying remnants of war, our breath was then stolen for an eternity of a second by the beauty of Hiroshima looking outward from Orizuru Tower. The symphony of space, architecture, and music orchestrated serene feelings as the observer inside the tower peered down Hiroshima. Building by building, car followed car, bridges and highways, all were hugged by green mountains and motherly clouds. Beauties always feed me better than saddening pathos, I started sobbing as emotions arose and they were outpouring like showering summer rain that cleansed everything on its way. The moment bore such a deep sense of relief henceforth if anyone asks, I would certainly claim that I tasted Freedom in that late morning.  Beauty is mystical in that way, it puts its admirer in a blissful state that drives him to sprout more beauties, it reminds us of a life that’s not wasted by war and ugliness. Thus, I say this after careful thoughts: Regardless of human’s attraction to dramas, I wish for a new generation of arts that celebrates humanities; that means fewer songs, movies, news covers, books and so on that make us the more fearful, ever-so lonely and insecure; Because ugliness is just so damn contagious, and thanks god beauty is so as well. 

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That afternoon, we sped through water and reached the coast of Miyajima; with the other 3 girls, I hiked on its hill while humming a good song in my tongue. We then spread ourselves thin on the beach and listened to the waves came in, they came in endlessly. They came to the next day when we roamed around the 14th century Himeji Castle, I caressed my palm on her cooling woods, amazed at the cleverness of the old architects who mastered the art of capturing wind to calm a castle. Both Miyajima and Himeji were badges of Japanese tradition through their preservation of architecture; I paused at this thought. Through class reading of Oedewald, I now know the plethora of meanings that are packed in this single word: tradition, can I be more comfortable calling architectures "traditional" regarding my lack of understanding of these sites? Are physical and tangible things subjected to less fluidity compared to psychological and social norms? In our yearnings for permanence and certainty, we find ourselves more at ease by the tangible. The wooden structure, indeed, skillfully lured in the wind, but it is also the impalpable wind that made us feel beautiful.

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The philosophy of appreciating not only the shining stars but also the gaping darkness in between that makes the stars possible has run in the veins of East Asian artistry for centuries, it then was cultivated in Zen Buddhism and Myoshinji Taizoin, the temple where our class visited, is one of the current temples in Kyoto that housed this practice. I enjoyed the Buddhist lunch we were served there, but questioned its purpose as the meal has compromised to a “tourists’ taste". I then enjoyed the picturesque garden there, but questioned its coherence when pride in keeping the natural “painting” unchanged for hundreds of decades surfaced in the soft eyes of the monk. It is not cynicism that drives my life experience, I indeed find myself (often too romantically) relish every facet of Earth that I am presented to. But to be given the privilege of knowledge is to be endowed the task of living responsibly, this means catering critical thinking as a motherly backdrop of our psyche.

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On Friday, I departed Kyoto to stay at a temple on Mount Koya (Koyasan). To get there, one had to take the cable car up and up onto the secluded mountain that enshrined the heart of the Shingon school of Buddhism. There is an alluring beauty in traveling alone, the feeling evoked is almost spiritual: Outside my bedroom’s double sliding glass doors was a lush garden that I could admire its depth in serenity. A few minutes walk from the temple was a kami shrine; Its worn, hilly path was hidden behind an Edo house, everything was then snugged behind the flourishing greens and I could take as long as I liked to be lost without the worry of not being found for too long. That night after dusk, with a just-made friend, I climbed the stairs that flowed through 200,000 tombstones of Okunoin’s cemetery, the largest party space for dead people in Japan. And perhaps the best thing about traveling alone is the magic of encountering lives who have so much in common with your heart regardless of age, language, and place of birth. Professor Erin did say there was magic enshrined on this mountain. My conspiracy theory is that catering to my own needs, the magic Erin mentioned is actually a vegan restaurant called Bon On Shya. It was here that I met the friend whom I then traveled with, whose appreciation calmed the intense insecurities that I had been eating up the previous week. And it was here the following morning that I found the restaurant owner prepping vegetables, the whole place quiet and serene, propping us to talk for more than an hour. The conversation was the final stamp of approval that gave me the confidence to affirm my insights into the research project. I have found more pieces of my self, looking outward, reflecting inward.

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From school, readings, introspection, from the people and mentors with insights that changed my perspective, I learned to live more bravely, genuinely, and wisely every day; These lessons are then tested through experiencing life’s various faces. In that way, this program is a wheel of opportunities unfolding itself every moment. I will forever think fondly of these days as a cocoon for self-expedition and knowledge-exploration, in all earnest.